inside you there are two wolves
(they want to get out)
Duality. That seems to be the year’s theme, it’s all I keep writing about. Two selves. Two clocks. Two wolves. I am splintered myself; there is another self on the verge of emerging, she’s long over due. But today I guess I’ll talk about wolves.
The thing is there’s always a wolf trying get out. But let’s slow down, what are the wolves? Who are the wolves?
Duality, an ancient construct. Yin and yang. Black and white. The most relevant example in my brain is Natalie Portman’s dual role in Black Swan. A film about dopplegangers, duality, and the repressed self. Though it would be too simplistic to follow the film’s understanding of it, the white one is pure and disciplined, the black is seductive and chaotic. Even the definition of the traditional two wolves is equally reductive. “One wolf is your good qualities, one is your bad side”, you’ve seen the memes.
I don’t necessarily agree with this idea (i.e. one bad, one good) because look what happens to Natalie’s character. Unable to integrate the repressed self (black swan), she is irrevocably broken in two, with one side taking over and (literally) killing the other. To look at these two wolves inside the self as one to keep and one to destroy is self-mutilation. Inside you are two wolves, you must let them out. Both of them.
But won’t the other wolf devour the other? “If I do what I really want, if I give in to my most primal needs won’t I destroy myself or others?” This is the true question that arises. Is one of the wolves inside of me utterly bent on destruction? Well, yes, but not in the way we understand destruction.
Destruction is natural. All of nature is destructive. Hawaii’s fauna is only beautiful because of its volcanoes. Great lava bursting forth from deep underground, wreaking havoc, a path of fire and destruction unfolds. It kills everything in its way, it all must go, that is the law of nature. It’s cyclical; the ancient path of death and rebirth. But from these ashes, from the rich nutrients beneath our earth, live begins anew. Fertile soil is created by these volcanic eruptions. I firmly believe this to be a metaphor for own modes of self-expression. When we let the scary wolf out, the parts of ourselves we despise, the chaotic, the destructive, these volcanic eruptions occur. New things will flower after the destruction.
As I apply everything I say to my own life, let me give an example. I really wanted to skip work and go watch a movie at my favorite movie theatre. I wanted to skip work, get high, and watch an NC-17 rated film. I wanted a veggie hotdog and reese’s pieces on greasy popcorn, simply put: I wanted a fun Friday night, I wanted to rebel against my own expectations. And I battled with this desire the whole day, as I got ready, as I ate my breakfast, I could send a text “I’m not coming in” any time then but I didn’t. The two wolves grappling against each other. The responsible, sane wolf versus the crazy, slave-to-its-whims wolf. I didn’t actively decide, I simply got in the car and let my body tell me where I wanted to go.
I started driving the opposite direction from work. It was until I passed the last freeway entrance towards my job, that it hit, “I’m really doing it!” Joy washed over me, I was doing what I wanted. I was capable of doing it, of listening to that other wolf, the one who does things for fun, the one who often scares me. And as I gave myself to the whim, I realized I didn’t really care too much to go see the film. The desire dissolved, as rapidly as steam rising from water. Release. I just wanted the permission to do it, I was rebelling against myself not because I wanted the actual thing but rather the symbol of it. I wanted to prove myself I was capable of skipping work for an irrational desire. That I could honor my own feelings before the tangible reality of needing to work to survive. When I placed that desire above all else, when I listened to that wolf, the desire itself disappeared. The wolf just wanted to get out and it did.
I went to work, an hour late but I did. Happy and elated with the discovery of my own power to stand to the tyranny of the responsible wolf. The subconscious is always running the show, and by letting the wolf that lurked in the shadows drive the car, I reached an integration. A brief peace arose between the two wolves.
But this integration is far from perfect, as in I don’t think we can consciously reach it. I will always rebel against my own expectations. I must make space for these small rebellions. This is why I make appointments only to be late or completely miss them. Why I highlight books at bookstore before I buy them. Why I send payments late or at the last minute. Why all my essays due at midnight are promptly submitted at 11:58pm, or more honestly, 11:59pm. I’m a rebel at heart, often against myself, the tyrant that thinks it knows what’s good for me. So I let myself be late, I highlight the books, I submit the essay one minute before its due. It’s permission, the wolf just wants to be out. I’m not gonna chastise myself, I’m not meant to fix myself. I’m not a well-oiled machine to be fiddled with or a computer to program. I am a human being with intricacies and a robust personality. I can fight the wolves inside of me all my life or just succumb to my own nature. And I think that’s what we’re meant to do. If our mind is a battlefield, it’s high time we declare peace.
It’s more fun that way. Give in to the animal within. To quote the great Mary Oliver, “let the soft animal of your body love what it loves”. I know I will.
“(february) dream”
I am myself at last wearing black, in kohl-smudged eyes A heavy moonstone on the finger, reading the diary of Anaïs Nin as I let the world linger No preoccupations for me, only transmutations that lead to revelations And the children run up to hug the white unicorn Unabashed, unafraid, joy still in their face Debating my place in space Feeling like I must go to Paris again A pilgrimage for the soul I always must recoup myself when others disappoint And yet for what I lack, I cannot find Everything, everything lies inside Point your finger, just like magic the world opens wide And you see things for what they are A crystal mirror you can finally touch Anaïs Nin writes: "I am passionate and fervent only for the dream" I think if I could float and let the water envelope me Guide me across that wide Atlantic Sea In a dream I can fly away but only until I’m called forth again To do the work I came here to do That is to exist and let the dreams ensue He asks what's the story behind the moonstone ring I say nothing, I think, only my dream has meaning I am passionate and fervent only for this
“ZEBULON”
POETRY UPON POETRY CAME TO MY LIPS BUT I DIDN’T WRITE ANY OF IT INSTEAD I DANCED THE NIGHT AWAY WET FEET WITH ROSÉ I AM TYPING FROM THE DANCEFLOOR AS I SPEAK THIS KISSES GIVEN ON SOFT NECKS AND WARM LIPS SORE TOES UPON ROUGH CONCRETE MY MARY JANES NOT YET BROKEN IN SHAKE THE BODY AND LOVE THYSELF THERE IS WAR OUT THERE SO LET THE RHYTHMIC RITUAL IN TEARS AND DANCE ARE WHAT THE GODS BROUGHT BACK TO THE SATIATE THE GRIEF HYMNS NOT ELEGIES FOR OUR COSMIC SLOPE BLACK PANTS, RED STAINS, A MAN WHO BITE OFF TOO MUCH, IT'S ALWAYS ENTROPY OR DECAY POETRY UPON POETRY CAME TO ME BUT I DON’T KNOW SURRENDER INSTEAD I DANCED THE NIGHT AWAY
