THE BANKER MAN

the banker manWe have similar and humble origins, but our journeys took distinctly different paths that ended crossing each other’s at this point in our lives. We’ve both been judged along the way, me mostly for my actions and now and then the way I acted, not caring if I were taken for a thug. My pal has been judged due to his last name and complexion, but he’s taken it in stride and done well for himself, his family and career bear that out.

We shook hands as a formal greeting to start our short meeting. He’s got hands like a banker… but then again he is a banker… sooooo… I don’t mind my calloused hands – kinda proud of em’ really. They remind me of a time when I was a little tougher, a little harder. They used to be hardened from earning a living the hard way… I don’t tell anyone these days they’re just from pulling and pushing heavy metal at the gym and they’re nothing like they were in my rough and tumble days of youth.

“Ever seen one of these?” he asked smiling his patented Chesire cat grin.

“More-n-one,” I answered with a grin, as he started to laugh I added, “Way more than I can remember and way worse than that,” I piled it on as he presented his slightly purple and black thumb nail.

“I’m not used to that kind of pain!” the banker man admitted, “It wouldn’t go away! There was no way to stop the pain!” he stated with a hint of a question in his voice looking for a trick he may have missed in life.

“Yep,” I stated grimly, “Nothing you can do with a smashed fingernail but just gut it out.”

“Yeah!” the banker man nodded to a well-defined answer in agreement.

“The real bad ones you gotta relieve the pressure,” I added some more wisdom to the subject I know all too well first hand… or finger… nail…

Sharing the hard truth about difficult times and circumstances is light years easier that the taxing times themselves. I’m fascinated how we can refer back to tough times in life and share our first-hand experiences with a perspective all but removed from them ever happening. Some of the most difficult times in life and the ones that have had the most impact on us are times of the most significant testing.

Consequences from actions made with something less than wisdom burn into our hearts and minds that leave the scars and memories that can define us. The losses of valued friendships, innocence, and loved ones, can bring more pain on the inside than a hammer obliterating a finger or thumbnail can.

Similar to that pain on the outside, nothing but time can help the coping process… it’s a peculiar thing about the two pains, the one on the outside and the other on the inside; the pain is relieved supernaturally in both cases far quicker than seems possible. I think it’s by God’s design. The bloodied and gnarled flesh begins to throb as pain subsides. Often the purging of poison is the key to relief.

“The real bad ones you gotta heat up a paper clip or needle and drill a hole spinning them between the thumb and forefinger to let the blood shoot out from underneath it,” I told the banker man with a smile on my face, a bit delighted in his horror.

“Ooooo!” he said with his face wrinkling.

It’s not so different than admitting Truth with our mouths after receiving a spiritual wound from the words and actions of others… my buddy the banker man knows that part all too well…