Two Wolves

I was just talking with Michael about how weird life is. Almost 5 months ago, I was proud of myself for simply being able to take a shower and brush my teeth. My life was so immediate, I was focused on just making it through each breath.

Fast forward a few months and I'm sitting in the living room of my wonderful house that I can pay rent for, watching classic films and sipping my favorite tea out of my "Will you be my beau-tea-ful bridesmaid?" mug. Not to mention I get to hang out with wonderful people at my job every day. I'm planning my life after undergrad, but before that I'm planning a hiking trip abroad, and a few conferences I want to attend. Soon I'll have to go buy hiking boots, get my passport, and get art supplies for the ceramics class I'm so glad I get to take. I also have to officially list Alicia as my vice president for my poetry organization...and plan my next performance (and our duo) which needs to happen soon. I miss being in front of a microphone.

Life is weird.

My friend Nick and I have started a pact to go to church every Sunday morning. We went last week and we'll hopefully go tomorrow. He even changed his work availability around so we could go consistently. Isn't that sweet? We both miss the routine of having something to do on Sunday mornings--and even if I don't identify as religious, I always did like setting aside some time to listen and think.

The sermon last week was on the parable of the wheat and the weeds. Anyways, the pastor told the story of a Native American elder talking with his grandson about the battle between two wolves in his heart. The one was dark and evil, made up of greed, malice, bitterness, and anger. The one was light and good, made up of charity, compassion, kindness, empathy, and humanity. The grandson asked his grandfather which wolf he thought would win the battle. The grandfather replied, "Whichever wolf I feed. I pray I will never forget that the wolf I feed will be the one to win."

My wolves are still fighting. It's a daily challenge to keep from feeding the dark wolf and giving attention to the little bitter nuggets that still exist in me. Every day I'm still trying to figure out how to find a balance between taking actions that honor and protect what I deserve--and reject what I don't deserve, and taking actions that honor how compassionate I want to be. It's not easy, and, as tends to happen, the opinions of those around me on what I should do fall on a vast spectrum between the two poles.

Life is weird. Life is hard. Life is beautiful. And though every day may be its own difficult battle, hindsight can show which direction the war is leaning. I pray I never forget that the wolf I feed will be the one to win.

If you see me feeding the wrong wolf, gently remind me. Some days I still need some help and support.

Love,

Megan