You are either wolf or sheep.
What does it mean anyway? That we are either predator or prey? As if there’s only good and evil, black and white?
I, personally, don’t ever like anyone categorizing people. I don’t like thinking in boxes, less so to be put into one. I never fit. Somehow I tend to pour out of them. And then I get hurt while someone tries to slam shut the one with me inside.
Anyway, how boring would it be if there were only two sorts of people? Just imagine. All the wolves hunting the sheep. Not a single snake biting the lone tiger in his feet. Not a small bird picking flies off the elephant’s head. Not a colorful fish cleaning the shark’s fin. Not a dog guarding the sheep.
And what about whales? Neither predator nor prey, building a circle when sensing danger and waiting for things to pass?
…nowhere a roe deer you desperately want to touch?
Take a breath. Remember. Did you ever encounter one?
Mistrusting, nervous, anxious, shy, careful, all senses alert, always ready to take flight. Gone fast, never to be seen again if you make one mistake but the most beautiful soul you ever saw.
And you know, the only thing you can do is to stand still, watch, hold your breath and try to be insuspicious and not to give off any sign of danger. You can’t move closer, no matter how much you want to. You can only wait and pray that the roe deer will decide to trust you.
So, what if you were wolf or sheep? Wouldn’t you either hunt that precious soul or be too clumsy to not be feared? Wouldn’t you never stand a chance to feel its silky fur?
No, to touch a roe deer you have to become a bush. Firmly rooted to the ground, apparently oblivious of the fearsome animal while sporting delicious green leaves making the deer’s mouth water. Tempting it to move closer. Until its body brushes you ever so sligjtly. Still giving no sign of how delighted and overwhelmed you are that you can feel the deer’s heat. Swaying with the wind as if no magic just happened. Praying that this moment shall never pass.
A bush. Leaves. Prey that is not prey. A bush. Definitely no predator. Or is it? Prey and predator in one? Or something completely different? And why do we have to decide on this?
Even the wolf at times needs someone to lean its head on. Maybe in a weak moment only a sheep is around. The wolf may not care. Just like the roe deer may not flee.
It might seem easier to categorize but in the end you’ll only find yourself busy trying to keep all those boxes shut while they open up again as soon as you take away your hand.
Don’t be black or white. Instead, wear all of your colors with pride.