Attack: (n) an aggressive and violent action against a person or place

Several weeks ago I had an overwhelming sensation creep into my soul and for a brief period of time, render me baffled and helpless. Perhaps I’ve overstated the sensation, but it was certainly an eye-opening experience.

I was watching a special on Nazi Germany. I like history shows so it drew my attention. But for some reason, the layout of this broadcast took me deeply into the mind and circumstances of Adolph.

For a very brief moment, I absorbed the sensation of power that surged through his veins from 1938 through 1940, when he dominated the world by attacking all of his enemies, and for that two years, made himself appear invincible.

I thought about the parties, the victory celebrations, the awarding of medals, the touting of “the super race” and all of the bravado that went into creating the Third Reich.

He worked on a simple principle: if I can attack and win, it proves that I’m right.

As I watched the documentary, I also felt what it might have been like when this all began to unravel, and the attacker became the attacked–until he finally found himself in a cramped bunker beneath his holy city of Berlin, surrounded by his enemies, forced to either surrender or take his own life.

It made me wonder why the premise of “attack or be attacked” is still so prevalent in our society. For after all, is there any conqueror who did not end up destitute, denied power, and usually assassinated or self-destructive?

How does the “attack mentality” continue to gain support, when all of its advocates are proven to be foolhardy, buried in inglorious graves?

I don’t get it.

This is what I know: if you attack, you will be attacked.

Granted, not attacking does not guarantee you a free pass … but the karma associated with aggressively attempting to dominate another person always circles back to destroy you.

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix