Two Wolves

If you’ve subjected your brain to the mind-numbing experience of cinematic entertainment over the past twenty years, you’ve no doubt been exposed to the Native American proverb of the two wolves. Supposedly, every person contains within themselves a good wolf and a bad wolf, each vying for control, and whichever wolf the person feeds the most will dominate their character.

The literary genre for this particular concept is called “Hollywood Horseshit”. Not an iota of historical validation exists to lend credence to idea that any tribe perpetuated this myth. Moreover, the whole idea is based on the concept of the noble savage, which itself is as bogus as an “honest” insurance salesman. Contrary to the Koolaid we’ve been force-fed, Native Americans were not accomplished equestrians and dedicated stewards of Mother Earth. They were exactly like you and I — fallen, finite, and fouled up.

The solitary reason the pre-Columbian inhabitants of North America didn’t decimate the landscape is that they simply lacked the technology. Due to the large mammal die-off of ten thousand years ago, horses and livestock didn’t exist on this continent until the Europeans and Spaniards unleashed those invasive species upon their arrival. Only Bison had survived and they were not tamable.

Imagine ten self-confident Indians setting out on a mission to bring down an adult Bison. They were on foot, wearing ill-fitting and thin-soled deer hide moccasins. They were armed with hand carved, flint-tipped arrows and homemade single-action wooden bows — not the razor-sharp, machine-balanced, aerodynamic projectiles, or the powerful carbon-fiber compound bows of modern archery. And they certainly had no gun powder-based weaponry. They were up against a massive herd of agile 2,000-pound bulls sporting very thick hides and sharp horns as well as the ability to run three times as fast as the Indians. Frankly, those Indians were lucky if even two of them survived the hunt to enjoy that buffalo meat.

But you know I never write about “stuff” unless it has something to do with you and me. So back to those two mythical wolves. You and I are not dealing with two wolves hiding in our psyches: we’re dealing with an entire vicious pack that’s marked our brains as their hunting ground. More important, they laid claim to that territory long before you or I were even born. We inherited our character anomalies from our parents, who inherited them from their parents, who inherited them from…you can see where this is going.

We are part of a human race that, while created in the perfect image of the Author of the universe, is still struggling to conquer an internal wolf pack that has evolved and grown over three million years.

The Wolf of Fear
One of the alpha wolves in the pack is the wolf of fear – particularly, the fear of the unknown. It comes at us head-on and blocks our path from any forward progress.

Several years ago, my friend, Russell, bought an older Victorian home in a tiny town ninety minutes East of the DFW Metroplex. Everyone called Russell crazy for shackling himself to a three-hour daily commute, but Russell knew something the rest of us didn’t know. The Army Core of Engineers was about to dam up the Sulphur River and create a giant reservoir to supply Northeast Texas’ growing water needs.

Along with all that water comes a recreational paradise for fishermen, boaters, campers and outdoor fanatics of every ilk. And for the more sophisticated weekend partiers who choose not to sleep in their car or tent, Russell’s newly remodeled Victorian Bed-and-Breakfast will provide comfortable accommodations only a stone’s throw from the shore of that watery wonderland.

What Russell failed to take into account was the Wolf of Fear. When Russell joined the city counsel and began talking about improving infrastructure and cleaning up the mini-junkyards around town, all anyone could see was the higher taxes those improvements would necessitate. Nobody recognized the financial windfall those same improvements would help facilitate.

The country bumpkins were/are dreadfully afraid of the unknown and Russell may soon be forced to sit on his massive front porch with a shotgun to ward off the pitchfork and flaming-torch crowd.

The Wolf of Anger
While the wolf of fear captures our attention from head-on, the wolf of anger is a flanking wolf that comes at us sideways. The bottom line: Anger is invigorating. When we blow our top at a careless driver or lazy co-employee, we feel avenged. We feel justified. We feel in control. And after all, isn’t that what we’re seeking at the darkest and most remote part of our being — to be the gods of our own universe? The problem with anger is that it begets more anger based on lesser and lesser offenses.

Several years ago, I attended my fortieth high school reunion and was pleasantly surprised by many of the folks I reconnected with. I was not alone. A small group of couples began getting together for group dinners and even weekend outings. It was a cohesive and fun group … until it wasn’t. The philosophical and political differences began to become magnified via social media, and the group splintered. Some of those folks even became so angry and offended that they skipped our fifty-year reunion. We all got a piece of our souls gnawed out by the wolf of anger.

Battling Wolves
We may think we can just turn ourselves into wolf-free people by joining like-minded herds and keeping the wolves at bay by sitting around the campfire singing Kum by yah. But eventually, we tire out and the group’s fire burns down to embers and the wolves sneak in to feast on our souls. The wolves of our psyche are not majestic creatures. They are treacherous predators, and we are the prey.

We can offer each other help and encouragement but, in the end, we each have to do battle with our own wolves. What we need is an experienced helper to stand in the gap and eradicate those wolves before they take become permanent residents. And if/when we find that solution, we need first of all, to share it with our kids because their wolves were sired by our pack.

A meeting of great minds who think alike