The Cottage and the Wilderness

It’s a Herculean task.

Sitting through a book or movie. Or writing either one.

These long works of art are not what I’m meant to write.

I find my talents are more suited for the essay. And no, it isn’t dead. If you think they’ve been replaced by those top 10 lists, then you’re on the hunt for clickbait and should suffer the consequences of trying to please everyone at the expense of prose.

I say Herculean because if you still have energy, you’re not wasting your time in front of a television. Sure, you’ve got a long ride and you’re a passenger in the 27th seat. That’s a reason to invest time in a movie, book, or binge sesh.

But if you’re going to live a full life and continue to ask “what’s next” and that’s your motto and you’re stickin’ to it, then what business do you have sitting down for longer than 30 minutes at a time?

Apparently that’s my attention span these days. After 30 minutes I require something new to spend my hard earned energy on. 

Why don’t I just watch sitcoms? Well I do. Huge fan. But I’m trying to get out the door. I’m trying to shake off the sluggishness of having to quarantine.

Like: “Do you hear me, America? I’m trying to get back to business as usual with you, but I was on the bench so long I put my feet up.”

I’m trying to work up the courage to go to work today. And I am trying to figure out just why it’s so goddamn hard right now.

Picture this:

Through this wilderness

You find a cottage

Then you rest.

You don’t have to hunt

Or even travel very far.

You have a routine.

Then, you run out of 

Convenient food,

It turns out someone

Else owns the cottage,

But you can stay there

At a price:

Everything you have.

You love the cottage, 

And everything before 

Was wilderness.

Now you must decide

How you will eat

If you will stay

The food is theirs

It isn’t yours anymore

Society is distant,

Hunger is iminent,

It is time to face 

The wilderness

And hunt.

But you have gained

Weight staying at the cottage.

It’s difficult to hunt now.

Wouldn’t it be nice

If someone else hunted?

Yes. But it’s. Just. You.

So you hunt.

You let the hunting

Change your attitude

Let it change 

Your physique

Let it change 

Your appetite

As you dine on

A hunters diet

Leaving behind 

The domesticated one

…Until the next resting point.

That poem is my path. If it resonates with you, then…

Hunt. Well.

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