Sunday, June 14, 2009

Into My Wild

Jun 14, 2009
I find myself watching things that painfully evoke emotions I have never addressed.

By some act of my own independence, I have reclaimed my childlike soul. But there are reasons and paths along the way that must be considered before I can fully respect from where I’ve come, and who I have always been.

I have a collection of ZIPPO lighters that have all dried to nothing but flint and cotton. I look at them in my sideboard as they rest next to silver plate flatware from my grandmother and only I know how much both mean to me. Why I keep both, is a mystery to my roommate, my husband, my partner. A partner I chose when I was unsure and had lost my strength. A partner I chose when giving was itself survival.

But the realization that I might not survive this human starvation of giving but not receiving has left me startled. The sudden shock of self awareness has confounded the process I followed without question since leaving my own journey into my own wild.

The movie Into the Wild strikes so many relevant chords. It is a symphony of my past, a dying brother in Alaska and a child who never felt truly relevant, my present a partner from Emory, and perhaps my future, an independent soul left to the devices of nature to survive. All of these intertwine into the woman I have become today. The sister of an errant soul, the daughter of an unexpectedly pregnant teen, and the child of a classic family. How do those people become one warm soul?

Can finding love for just an intermission keep one warm through a cold Alaskan winter? Can one sided passion suffice for the fervor of a wild pack leader? I realize that my soul may not be meant to be a lifelong mate. I am a wolf, not a penguin.

The absurd and tedious duties that I have agreed to for the last decade since the death of my sweet and errant brother have caused a volcano of emotion and opportunity. Not unlike an elementary science project, I am ready to explode. I hope they know that I love them no less for my own insufficiencies. I am no less a friend, but perhaps less a citizen.

I wrote as a child that I was she wolf who led her pack and chose her destiny. I am grateful to re-embrace that soul and aware of those I might hurt along the way. I hope they can forgive my trespasses as I aggressively blaze the trail of my own wild.

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