“I don’t think you can handle the grey”
The grey. A new world without Google maps where wild things roam free. At times this world seems impossible to navigate in my normal fashion, by car. The highways continuously curve and roads cross like busy LA intersections. This place has no prescribed rules, regulations or speed limits. A thick layer of fog covers the roads. Trees hang wet and luminous over the earth. In this world the wild things run free. They sit in the trees ominously staring down at me. “And the wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.” These wild things love playing tricks on me. They enjoy seeing me squirm. They jump out in front of my car and laugh as I apply the breaks. After these encounters I would pull my car to the side of the road. I would cry. I would ask myself why I ever thought the grey would be an interesting place to visit.
The problem is that when I first entered this new grey world I was attempting to navigate it in the same way I moved in my old one. I tried to apply to same rules. Tried to use the same operating system to direct me. Drove in the same vehicle. Saw the fog as something to be feared. Constantly worried about wild things popping out at me.
Then something wonderful happened. I got out of the car and I cried to the wild thing “let the wild rumpus start!” I put my maps in the glove compartment. I abandoned my car and began to explore. I asked to play with the wild things. I am currently here. I am attempting to sit in this grey space. Because when I sat I began to notice how beautiful this world truly was. I encountered new sounds that brought with them a new way of hearing the world. Experienced a new way of looking into the grey that made me tilt my head in astonishment. The fog still lay thick swirling with questions but now there was an excitement in the unknown. I became curious about the wild things instead of fearing them. I frolicked with them. Before I relied on a roadmap to guide me but now I am learning to use my internal compass.
The grey. A world I am still uncomfortably trying to navigate. A world where I reflect daily and cry often. A world of possibility. A world I know I could easily opt out of. Like Max who:
“… sailed back over a year
and in and out of weeks
and through a day
and into the night of his very own room.
where he found his supper waiting for him
and it was still hot”
The difference between Max and I is that even if I ride back on my boat and find my supper waiting for me I’m not sure if that’s what I want to eat anymore.