I'm sure you've heard, or read, the 'Native' story about the two wolves. If you haven't, it goes something like this:
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.
“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt,resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity,humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person,too.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
The problem is, the story dates to 1978, was originally about an Eskimo, and was written by Reverend Billy Graham.
It shows...there are two defined paths, one good, one evil. In the original 1978 story, it becomes even more blatant, as the 'evil' wolf/dog is black, the good one is white. It doesn't get much more allegorical than that.
Everything in life is a balance. Yes, it is of the utmost importance to express joy, peace, love and hope. We need so much more of it in this world. However, there are times when anger is proper. When sorrow is proper. When regret is proper. Everything must be in balance. In order to be complete, one would need to know which wolf to feed, and when, in order to remain in balance.
So why are we discussing a thing called the Wolf Hour, if balance is so important, and each wolf has its place?
Because there's a third wolf.
And that wolf is truly the wolf of inferiority, self deception,self loathing, and despair, for those are symptoms of weakness and illness, not strength. Lies, envy,greed and resentment are its stock and trade. That wolf is the one who comes out, hobbling, late at night looking to be fed. He is an outsider,unnatural. And his voice is loud,despite being skinnier and sicklier than the other two His eyes, rheumy and dull, still glow in the atavistic darkness with a strange inner light. His voice is the one that tells you that you're worthless, that people only pretend to like you, that everyone is saying things behind your back. His voice is the one that tears you down, scratches and claws at you, leaving infected wounds that take years or decades to heal...if they ever do. He is the wolf that must not be fed...yet some of us can't help but do it.
The wolf hour is late, so late at night, when there is no sound but the subtle noises of a house filled with sleeping people. Perhaps it's windy outside, and the wind howls through the trees, a hollow, mournful sound. It is dark, and you are awake, and you are alone. And that is when the wolf comes. Your protection, your pack, your tribe, is asleep, and you are ripe for picking. If you listen.
I often talk about wolf hour thoughts in one on one conversations with people. They come less frequently these days, but I'd say there have been points where they were not only a nightly occurrence, but an all night occurrence. Unfortunately, when they do come, they are stronger and stronger, despite the outsider's weak appearance. It is a carefully crafted lie, designed to make it easier to submit and give in to those voices.. I must fight them with all of my might, all the while feeding the wolves of mother earth and father sky in order to be strong and compassionate.
I cannot feed the third wolf.
I must not.
Not anymore.
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