Counterbalancing Both

Photo by Honza Reznik on Unsplash

“What will you do with your one wild and precious life?” ~ MARY OLIVER

A quote from the poem The Summer Day.

No one has all the time in the world. Most of us have less than 90 years to be active participants in our own lives. To make decisions about how we live, what we do, eat, think, how long we sleep, who we meet, and who we love.

This gorgeous line was posted large on the side of a disabled bathroom in my workplace.

I read it 10000 times over the year I worked there.

Despite its spot, it made an impact.

Life is wild, untamed, and open to interpretation by each individual.

Our path is never an easy yellow brick road. It’s native instinct, it’s crazy, unsafe, complicated, scary, dangerous, feral, and it never fits into neat boxes with ribbons and bows.

Despite its wildness, every day, hour, and present moment is precious. Meant to be savoured, adored, loved, lived, enjoyed, relished, delighted in, and made to last.

Precious life counterbalances the wild life.
Like Yin and Yang.
Like hot and cold.
Like darkness and light.

We need precious and wild, but not too wild, and not too precious either.

What I think Mary Oliver was trying to tell us is that if we find some graceful, easy balance between what’s wild and what’s precious, we can live a good life.

Not toxic positivity, or pretending to be happy, not depression or narcissistic callousness, but nuanced, accepting all emotions as neither good nor bad, but an amazing pick and mix of reality that’s up to us to navigate.

We had a little black dog who was incredibly loving, a sensitive pet who was always happy and sweet. I took him for a walk to our orchard. I saw a large female kangaroo clear the 5-foot-tall fence, thinking it was safe to go in. I didn’t realise her joey was still in the orchard.

This little black pet, who was frightened of frogs, ran to the joey and attacked.
No amount of screaming or chasing him would release the grip this small dog had on the roo’s neck. It kicked out so hard, I thought the dog would let go.

When I got close, I saw the glee in the little dog’s eyes, and the dullness of the roo’s. I tried to catch up with them, but the baby marsupial may as well have been a new rope toy. There was no way he would let go of the darling thing that probably weighed more than he did.

The joey drooped down lifeless. I guessed it would, with dog teeth trapped on its neck for fifteen minutes. Our sweet pet dropped the dead thing at my feet, wagging its tail as if I should congratulate it. I was sobbing. I didn’t want to pat the pet with a bloody mouth. I turned away, traumatised that he wanted to rip it open and eat it.

Photo by pen_ash on Unsplash

The lump of fur was still so warm. Beautiful, even in death.

I felt sick. Vomit in my mouth, I picked the dead lump up by the tail, struggling to throw it over the farm gate. It must have weighed more than the dog. Who tried to squeeze out to devour it, patrolling like a Nazi. The same dog I’d fed leftover chicken and kibble an hour before.

He wasn’t even hungry.

I had to reconcile the dog’s wild side with its precious side. The thing that would curl up on my lap and fall asleep like an angel was a killer. I witnessed bloodlust. I’d seen this mild-mannered, scaredy-cat pet turn into a wild wolf.

People wouldn’t believe that their small sausage dog, corgi, or toy poodle would ever do such a thing. But loving pet dogs like labradors or border collies left unrestrained at night are the worst offenders for killing lambs or goat kids on farms.

It has nothing to do with hunger. Killing is in their DNA. It’s the most fun they could ever have. It beats the doggy diapers off the dog park. After seeing what I saw, I think any dog would be capable, even the pampered pooches.

Google informed me that it varies, but 64% of modern dog breeds have detectable wolf ancestry. The Saarloos wolfdog has about 40% wolf DNA. Afghans are also high in predator DNA, while tiny chihuahuas have 0.2%, and Saint Bernards have zero.

It takes cats three to four days to become brilliant hunters. I know this because someone dumped a cat on our property, along with a 7kg bag of opened Whiskers cat biscuits. That bag stayed full. The friendly black cat turned up at our house a week later. He smooched up behind my legs, still fat, from feeding on local birds. A ranger came out and took the gorgeous creature.

All cats make excellent predators if they want to be.

People are mammals; we have 2% Neanderthal mixed into our own DNA.
(Though my husband claims men like DJT may have more than that.)

If you can make a torturer out of anyone by hurting someone they care deeply for in front of them, it all makes sense.

Look at history. The most important events are brutal wars or the systematic annihilation of a certain group of people. Both events that are still happening now in Gaza, for example.

Oliver’s quote tells me that the cruel and tragically hateful stuff is part of us, and we can’t always suppress our feral nature.

Our job is to make the most of our years by finding balance.

Live the one life we want without hurt or injury to others, especially those that we love.

Remember there is no preciousness without a wild side to counterbalance it.