Feed the Animals

My friend is taking a tap dance class. I am envious.

She is a performer. A fantastic one. She acts and sings and writes and composes, and shimmers with all those fascinating talents all of the time.

She’s also a mommy. A fantastic one. Her youngest is not yet two.

“I had forgotten how great it feels to stand in front of a mirror wall and dance!” she told me.

“I’m so glad you can do that! It’s so hard to have to leave it behind while you mommy.”

It reminds me of the old story.

How the grandfather tells the little boy:

There are two wolves inside your heart. One is strong and brave and kind. The other is mean and vicious and ready to hurt you any way he can. Which one will win?

Tell me, Grandfather. Which wolf will win?

The one you feed.

I think there are way more than two wolves howling for food in my heart. Yes, there is the wolf who is kind. And the one who wants to tear everyone’s head off.

Then the wolf who reads voraciously. There is a very hungry wolf who needs to write, and another who needs to travel.

I have a very silly wolf who pops up a lot. And a wolf who works way to hard.

All those howling needs and passions that demand from me. What one is hungriest today? Which one am I listening to?

Maybe they take turns. Maybe one or another of them get out of hand.

Inside of my heart, there are a lot of animals to feed. Some of them are still waiting to be discovered. I have to listen to hear which one needs to be fed next.

I’m wondering if I need to feed the tap-dancing wolf. That one has something to show me.

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