The Place of the Wild Things

I think that there are some things that are written that will not change, the beauty of a stallion running free, the call of a loon on a lake in Ontario, the majesty of a windblown pine tree on a rocky shore.  All around us things are changing, and when I feel lost I have tried to hold the fleeting things of this world, caught up in emotion and self-importance, and have found that they slip through my hands like dust.  But I can always find beauty in the wild things, the things that do not demand answers, but quietly and majestically claim life, through uncertainty, and dare to just be who they were created to be.

It is in this place that I go, the place of the wild things, when I feel as if I do not know my place, do not know where I fit or belong, that I find rest.  I have often asked myself who I would be if I walked in this certainty, this quiet peace, and did not question and sometimes dare to defy the very breath that I breathe.

Life has not been easy.  I have found myself running away from difficult circumstances most of my life, whether it be people, places or things.  Finding solace in a bottle was easy for a time, until it demanded payment with interest on the instant sense of escape it provided.  I have tried to find myself through other peoples’ eyes and it has led me to places of shifting sand, my heart becoming a blur of emotions and illusions and things I thought I could somehow control, only to realize I am powerless.  Like the bird that abandons herself to the sky and must depend on the wind that lifts her in flight, knowing that God has given her wings to fly and will raise her,  I too yearn to know this flight in my heart.

To fully experience the moment, not my past, not musings about my future, but to be and breathe fully in this very moment is the doorway I walk through to be in the place of the wild things.  To just be, trusting that God will give me everything I need for my heart to bloom where it is planted, is perhaps the greatest gift that I can give.  Perhaps it is for this very thing that we have been created, to bloom where we have been planted, to dare to shine where we were created to shine, to dare to bend where we must, to dare to run unfettered where we have been led.


Deana Lafleur 2017




One thought on “The Place of the Wild Things

Leave a Reply