I dream, therefore I live: The wolf, the man and the difference between them.

Last night I dreamed that I was supposed to kill a wolf. I tried to strangle it and crush it’s wind pipe with my knees and my hands and it just wouldn’t die. It’s eyes begged to be seen. I was so consumed with killing it that I didn’t realize it had turned into a man.

I don’t know what he said as he spoke to me but his words and the look in his eyes made me feel a deep compassion for him. My heart ached because I knew I was still supposed to kill him. He sat up on a chair and we talked for a long time. But I still had this feeling that I was supposed to kill him and this voice kept telling me to do so. Out of compassion for the man and anger for the guilt I felt, I turned to confront the voice telling me to kill.

The man reached out and took my hand.

As I turned my attention to the voice I didn’t notice the man had turned back into a wolf. The hand I held in mine turned to a paw. As I felt the fur under my fingers my heart sank. Before I could turn to see the animal I felt its teeth sink into the flesh of my arm. I released it’s paw and it ran away without looking back.

I’ve pondered this today.

There’s something I’ve been avoiding for years and tonight I will confront it.

A beast.

A beast that I thought for a long time that I must kill. The beast is a man. The man deserves compassion. In seeking to feel a deep compassion for this being I have dredged up innumerable questions.

My take away from this… A wolf is a wolf.

Even wolves deserve compassion. Compassion makes them no less beastly but it isn’t our purpose to do so. It isn’t our place to decide if they are beast or man. Peace and compassion remove the beasts facade and reveal the being that hides deep, shuddering, hoping for redemption.

Man and beast are one; it just depends on who is looking.

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