I was reading “Where the Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak and got to thinking about monsters and wildness. We aren’t just one thing, are we? Of course not! Often people tell me about themselves. They say, “I am too this” or “I am too that.”
Yes, we have dominant characteristics. Lord knows I am easy to pigeon-hole.
Don’t ask, I just did. My husband (ahem, "assistant") dutifully bagged most of them. Why did I do this? I guess because I needed to touch, feel, connect. In these Covid days, hugs are forbidden….so unnatural…and even my face gets covered BUT my hands can still talk! When I was thinking of goofy monsters I thought to myself “Wild is Wonderful!”.
Yup, that exuberant, inattentive energy that tips into mischievousness sometimes (oops) is wonderful!
It just IS!
And the little boy in that book, no matter what, needs to know that. He needs to know that he is loved.
Being the King of Wild Things was okay for a while but when he came home, the hot porridge was waiting. He was missed.
Where is MY hot porridge?
It’s in the story. When I am working on a story, I am home. There’s balance. I eat better, sleep better and even move better. I am connected. Us performers ache for that. These days, unless you are outside, the opportunities are scarce so we have to go into the wild for a while. Yup. Sometimes we lash out, sharpen our teeth on our disillusionment and spit out unkindness. Where does that come from? Usually hurt, disappointment, frustration. BUT if and when we understand that it is just a PART of us, we return and recognize that love is waiting for us no matter what.
Does the monster get tamed? Gee I hope not.
It is that fire that hones me.
It is the necessary passage, uncomfortable and unbalanced that pushes me through to the other side.
My one eye glows, knuckles drag on the floor and my hair stands on end. I posed for this picture below...hahaha
BUT that’s only part of being a monster.
Monsters don’t JUST lash out. They PLAY!
They have great monster moments of UNBRIDLED DELIGHT feasting together and howling at the moon.
Then, at a certain moment, something beckons us out of the wild wood.
We wander back to an open door where the bed is no longer brambles and leaves. It’s soft and clean and welcoming. We eat our porridge and our growls turn into purrs.
Tomorrow will come and some of us irascible creatures will enter the wild wood to unleash our emotions and swing from the trees. I shall frolic, scream loudly, beat my drum and laugh just long enough to exhaust myself.