Wednesday, April 23, 2014
April Moon 14: Day 8 -- Wild
What feelings does this word evoke? What sorts of memories does it recall? Which of your senses start to tingle? How would you represent what this word means to you?
'Not me' is what this word says to me. That'd be in the context of something unrestrained, uncontrolled. Even though I had times when I was definitely out of control, I was still IN control, pretty much, actually. I am a people pleaser, alas, and usually tried to do what was expected of me or what I thought someone wanted me to do. Even during those years when I was making poor choices in some areas, I worked very hard to make up for it in others -- and of course that didn't work well, but I didn't really get it at the time.
What I remember is the stress of trying to hide the poor choices by working very hard at other things, and feeling guilty much of the time, which of course led to more poor choices.
That was a very long time ago. I didn't let go of the stress of people pleasing for a long time, though, even after I cleaned up my act. When I finally began to understand who I really was and accepted that, everything changed for me. 'Wild' is still not really who I am, but I have learned how to relax into myself and be happy.
I live on 11 acres of mostly wild: my landscaping is 'natural,' meaning that there is no grassy manicured lawn, no flower beds, no intentional plantings. I have blue oak trees and natural grasses and wildflowers sometimes, and the deer come practically to my back door. The bird feeders attract hundreds of brilliantly yellow goldfinches and red house finches and opalescent mourning doves and fiery-throated hummingbirds -- all wild, and we sit at our table and listen to the squawks and chirps and whistles as we watch them vie for seed and nectar. We hear coyotes in the evening, not far away. Raccoons and skunks and possums will visit the front porch to raid the cat food if we don't bring it inside quickly enough at dusk. Big jackrabbits hop across the meadows and sometimes we have a flock of wild turkeys lurching their way through. We hear the hunting cry of hawks every day, and the turkey vultures soar with the air currents across the trees, casting big winged shadows on the ground.
That's the kind of wild I love. We get to watch from the safety of our house, get to walk over the property and sit outside and observe what goes on, feeling the energy of the life around us.
I'm content to be 'in' the wild but not 'of' the wild, to be who I am.