This writing and this poem that will come at the
end of this narrative, was inspired by Wendall Berry,
The Peace of Wild Things, and Mary Oliver's poem
Wild Geese.
It's the 'Wild' in both of these that called out to
me this morning. The freedom in the Wild that
during this time of sequestered sheltering, doesn't
feel so free, so wild. So, I go into 'remembrance'
of that first time when that wild freedom flowed over
me and all I could do was let it have me. I dedicate
this Earth Day, this New Moon day, My day to The Wild.
~~
In 1966 the song Wild Thing came out. It seemed a
call out to the way of the world then, one of the
freedom calls of that era of Vietnam, free love, and
the peace movement. It felt a call to young women to
let their freak flag fly, be groovy, make heart's sing.
Wild Thing
The Troggs
"Wild thing
You make my heart sing
You make everything, groovy
Wild thing
Wild thing, I, think I love you
But I want to know for sure
So come on, and hold me tight
I love you
Wild thing
You make my heart sing
You make everything, groovy
Wild thing
Wild thing, I, think you move me
But I want to know for sure
So come on, and hold me tight
You move me
Wild thing
You make my heart sing
You make everything, groovy
Wild thing
Come on, come on, wild thing
Shake it, shake it, wild thing"
I had moved for that summer to Hamilton, ON to
be part of a program put on by my Uncle, the priest.
I lived in a German Lutheran Church parsonage on
the edge of downtown Hamilton, with four other
young people whose names I have forgotten.
We were a diverse group, I was the only one from
the U.S., and I was a family member of the leader.
That placed me in a position of either being special
in a suspicious way, or being that 'other' that was
clearly a bit of a wild thing; unpredictable,
amusing and just cute enough to stir everyone's pot
up with a certain charm. I was an unknown factor.
I was liked, and often not trusted to be present in
the way of the rules given down by my revered Uncle.
I had rebellion written on my soul and there was no
way to stop it.
I was a Wild Thing. My then boyfriend, Scotty, that I
had left at home in Michigan, had sent me that record
about a month into this program. It came with a
very endearing card of love and missing that tickle
at my hearts edges. I was already crushed out on one
of my Uncles students that paid visit to us, probably
to see how we were all doing on behalf of him.
Henry, dear sweet Henry. Someone I will never forget.
It was confusing for me at 18, sassy, cute, smart,
curious beyond measure, to have a boyfriend at home,
and this unique, 'older' guy really wanting to know
me. It brought the wild of me to all my surfaces and
made my decisions based on the immediate rather than
anything thought out.
Henry was willing to accommodate pretty much my every
whim. I knew his crush on me made him vulnerable to
my charms. I took advantage of that with a frivolity
I had no idea of it's hurtful and joyful impact,
to both of us, to the program, to my uncle.
In my playfulness, my spontaneity, my overall
first-time-away-from-home freedom, I was pushing
life's edges in ways that were freeing for me, and
tedious and confusing for others.
That awareness for me came later. I was testing the
world and people around me, finding where I might
fit my creative, wild spirited self.
Who were my people?
What kind of Wild Thing would I be?
A Pantoum to The Wild.
Race the Wild self across freedom's radiance
Soar wide out into the vast unknown moments
Welcome the curious creative Spirit on fire
Hold back nothing in the Everything
Soar wide out into the vast unknown moments
Let the menace and frolic find pure release
Hold back nothing in the Everything
Earth, Fire, Air, Water are the orchestra
Let the menace and frolic find pure release
Be the clear channel of paradox in it's dance
Earth, Fire, Air, Water are the orchestra
Infinity is a boundless playground waiting.
BE the clear channel of paradox in it's dance
Welcome the curious creative Spirit on fire
Infinity is a boundless playground waiting
Race the Wild self across freedom's radiance
copyright. jeanne adwani
