Between the wild and tamed

Twenty four hours ago I was in the ocean, catching waves, the ocean calm, the waves taking their time to arrive.

Today its is wild. It would take any human entering its domain and suck them to eternity.

I remember when I was about 8 years old, feeling the forces of our industrial education system doing everything in its power to take any wild child I possessed and reduce it into neat and predictable conformity.

I rebelled. There was a small voice inside of me that put up a wall of defence. You can have all of this, but not this part. This part of me demands to remain wild.

On the fringes of wild is feral. That part of creatures who have been domesticated going rogue. There is a craziness about feral. Feral is disease expressed out loud. 

To be feral is to be chaos in purity. No rules, no constraints.

To be wild is to express the order of disorder.

The wild in us is critical to our wellbeing. Required when the forces of society, our governments, our military industrial complex, swings towards authoritarianism. Required when we humans treat our fellow humans, our fellow creatures, our precious home planet, as a resource for maximum extraction and exploitation.

To call in the wild, that part of us that will not be tamed, is to know the power one small voice holds. 

There is sweet beauty in wild. Collectively, like the ocean this morning, there is no power we cannot overturn. 

Photo taken December 13th 2020


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