It is disastrous to be a wounded deer.
I’m the most wounded. Wolves stalk,
and I have my failures too.
My flesh is caught on the Inevitable Hook !
As a child I saw many things I did not want to be.
Am I that person I did not want to be?
That talks-to-himself person?
That neighbors-make-fun-of person?
Am I he who, on museum steps, sleeps on his side?
Do I wear the cloth of a man who has failed?
Am I the looney man? In the great serenade of things
am I the most cancelled passage?
Twelve years after I first read this poem, it still catches me in the chest. I have so few opportunities for self reflection in my daily life. Things like this are mental looking glass, forcing me look deeper than the surface tension. It’s so easy to get caught up by groceries, work deadlines and check engine lights, dirty dishes and obligations that never end. Am I supposed to feel something more now? Am I supposed to be more secure and confident? Grounded?
I don’t. Yet, maybe it’s just that it becomes easier to accept uncertainty. To know that and to be okay.
I still have challenges to face. I feel more disengaged and less connected. Sometimes I feel as if my life is happening to someone else and I’m just here between waking and dreaming, grasping to remember myself.
It’s good to remember why, and to use that to steer the passage. In review, I am content that I’m not the person I did not want to be, but I see room for growth and change. We all have that potential.