So far 2013 has been such a vast improvement over 2012 that I’m giddy with happiness and my good wolf is munching away every day, getting stronger by the minute. Which doesn’t mean the bad wolf isn’t out there. Sometimes he sends minions to serve up a picnic in hell.
A friend told me something a friend of hers had said about me: “He thinks you have a black heart.” She thought it was funny, and after some reflection I did, too, but just for a moment, I thought, “Do I?” The thing is, I don’t. I have many, many flaws which I will not list here because I’m not feeding that damn bad wolf, but I have a good soul. Take a swing at me and you’ll pull back a bloody stump, but in general, I’m fairly good-hearted, definitely not dark and evil. Which made me ask myself, why did that bother me, even for a minute?
I think it’s because we all feed the bad wolf instinctively while it takes effort to feed the good wolf. Our basest desires, our darkest fears, the bad wolf feasts on the things our ids spread out for him like that picnic in hell. But for the good wolf, we have to take the time to shop for the ingredients, mix them together, heat them up and serve them to ourselves with love. We don’t do it instinctively the way we constantly toss scraps of ourselves to the bad wolf. So anybody who trips our instincts becomes a bad wolf minion. And I have to tell you, from now on, those minions are going DOWN.
In this particular minion’s defense, he didn’t say that to me, so I’m cutting him a lot of slack. God knows I’ve said far worse about him and did so again after the black heart crack. So the real minion here is me: I’m the one who let the id in. That’s my thought for today: Don’t let the bad wolf minions in, even when they’re you. Maybe especially when they’re you.
So now to the good wolf: I love New Jersey. Smartest thing I ever did was moving here. I love the landscape, I love the people, I love my little cottage which should be move-in-able next week (although nowhere near finished), I love being close to Krissie and Pat and (by summer) Lani, not to mention my daughter and her beautiful family. Just being here is feeding my good wolf every day, obliterating the banquet of depression and guilt I was feeding the bad wolf in Ohio.
So even when the semi-bad or at least tension-making stuff hit this week, it turned out to be wonderful. The back fell off my car and for a moment I thought, “Damn it, and things were going so well,” but when I took it to the Toyota dealer here, they ordered the part, it came in the next day, they fixed it for $65 and washed the car to boot. I love my new Toyota dealer, especially since the Ohio dealer had quoted me double the price to fix it.
Then I went to my new retinologist, which was tense-making. I wasn’t crazy about my retinologist in Ohio, but he was saving my sight and that’s all that mattered. So Krissie (wonderful sister) drove me to the doctor’s in Hackettstown which is semi-hell-and-gone from where I live, but if you need a retinologist, you go to where the retinolgist is, it’s not like they grow on trees. And the office is kind of old and dumpy, but the staff is friendly and on top of things, so I’m handling it pretty well. I’m assuming the shot will be as mostly-painless as the ones in Ohio, but it’s new so fingers crossed. Then the doctor comes in: he’s young, he’s in a good suit, he’s brisk but not dismissive, he gives me a shot that is completely painless and never develops the ache I got before, and he tells me that while I do have dry AMD in my left eye and wet AMD in my right, I’m doing well, and I don’t have to come back for another shot for six weeks.
I love my new retinologist. He’s a good wolf minion.
Then he noticed my crochet in my bag and said something about that being harder with compromised sight, and I told him I was learning to do it by feel so that when I lost my vision, I could still crochet. And he said, very swiftly and very firmly, “No. In 2013, with aggressive treatment, you will never lose your sight.”
I made it outside before I started crying. I know he may be too optimistic, but god bless him for it. I still haven’t completely wrapped my mind around it, I’ve been so fixated on planning for blindness, but just having that weight lifted turned everything around. Have I mentioned how much I love my new retinologist? I even told him so because his good wolf can use a cookie, too, although he looked like his good wolf was healthy as hell already. My sight isn’t what it used to be, but if what I’ve got is going to stick around, that’s all I need. Have a cookie, good wolf, nothing but good times ahead.
So those are my good wolf stories for this week: dark heart, bright future.
What did you feed your good wolf this week?