Wild Life
Seeing a dead animal or those close to their demise sends chills all over me. On a recent walk on a bridge over a lake, I saw a deceased otter floating in the water. This unexpected event was much creepier up close. It is not easy for me to see death that close with a wild animal, and it’s more heartbreaking to see domestic animals splayed out in the road.
A wild animal is part of a food chain, yet even watching one safely cross the street will give rise to the hair on my skin. I've always wondered why, especially recently, so I decided to write about it to figure this out.
Fearing what could happen to any wild animal is only part of why. How intimidating some can be isn't quite it either.
One aspect is their unflinching courage, regardless of where they are on the food chain. Not being equipped with human intelligence is a jealousy I have with all animals, especially wild; my mind involuntarily spins many webs that freeze me in place more than moving forward.
Putting myself and my thoughts out to the world is akin to a wild animal living and surviving in the same world. There is a certain degree of courage necessary to keep going out in the world, subjective to those who may pounce and injure from any direction.
Courage is something I've always admired from afar while shrunk into thinking that I could never be that brave. Recent times have provided the insight and value of courage being an asset past what fear prevents it from being, even when it doesn't work out.
Any career I will have in this field will have criticism. Fair or unfair, everyone gets it, regardless of popularity or success. An important aspect for this wild life of expression is knowing myself and my journey, regardless of what others may say or feel.
Artistic and personal integrity must always be maintained. Anything shy of that will be transparent and thus remove me from any chance of survival. My skin is already thick from years of living the life I have, and will only get thicker as time goes on.
Writing is the most difficult, yet most satisfying endeavor of my life and all I want to do for a living. Playing drums is the only thing that comes close, but writing is more agreeable to my soul. Though drumming is great for its physical and creative nature, using words and craft and perspective is a more enjoyably maddening creative adventure for me.
My mental approaches to drumming and writing have many parallels. It has been fun for me to fully realize and flesh out in the years I’ve become more serious about writing. Both of them have been the greatest outlets for my life's ills and ups, aligning myself to how to best serve the story I'm telling/song I'm playing, or to just unburden myself without concerns of artistic merit.
Reflection has helped me see that everything required for my writing has been in place for my entire life, including but not limited to informing the way I think and learn. My vast curiosity has led me to knowledge beyond what any formal education may provide, with an unquenchable thirst for more of that fulfillment. This is what I'm meant for.
There are numerous topics I’m interested in diving into, but lack the time. The bills still need to get paid, so I have a job. With my strong desire to write and research, and my current job requiring much of my time and energy, it's resulted in anxious and depressing days. On days off, anxiety has stripped away time being spent wisely, but those days are becoming more distant.
Recent and mutually beneficial changes at the job have made my life better, and I just have to keep plugging along and believing in myself. My small circle of loved ones are very supportive, but I am the one who must perspire.
Until I am earning a living only from writing, I’m left to work that regular job while feeling a different kind of wild. From living that life for over 21 years, it is more familiar. With my writing aspirations, I’ve become much more of who I’ve always wanted to be. That process created a wide divide from the old sector to a different kind of wild I'm still figuring out.
My fingers and focus being on this keyboard, at or away from my desk, and the words and thoughts that result, make the rest of my life go ‘round. More fulfillment has happened despite no money, though I hope it becomes a full time living.
Lately, I've had to make some big decisions I never thought I'd make at this point in my life. Much, but not all, of those decisions are based on writing and all what I need my life to be in order for it to be at its ultimate potential, now and in the future for an ideal wild life.
As I continue with this site and keep writing, I hope you find value in what I have to say and come back often.
If I’ve earned as much, that will result in positive chills while being seen out in the wild world of the written word; the same ones I get when I see a wild animal courageously doing what I envision my wild life to be.