I have decided to call myself, “Max.”
Here is the reason. Max is the guy in “Where the Wild Things Are.” I love that book. I think it is because of the animal costume that brings him such despair. It is not because of getting sent to his room for saying, “I’ll eat you up.” I disagree with the punishment. Let me take a moment here. It seems unfair to get upset at this phrase. It wasn’t a real threat. He couldn’t really have eaten his mom up, right? It wasn’t mean, he was acting out a character in his imagination. I would wager that is one of the stories that Grandma told Max’s children. I think putting him outside with the other wild animals or feeding him out of the dog bowl would have been more fitting expression of her frustration.
I was talking to a friend recently who reminded me that my life was a do-over. We talked about the amazing opportunity I have to reinvent myself. We spoke of the world as my oyster. I get to live into a dream. I get to live into myself and express it in what I do. I get to sail on through a day, a week, a year. I get to find my dinner, still warm.
The world has roared its terrible roar. It has gnashed its’ terrible teeth. I played along with the monsters for quite awhile. I roared an echo. I gnashed my teeth at myself. I scared myself hoping that if I did it, no one else would. I hung from the trees and rode the shoulders of monsters. I became the leader of the army intimidating me and taunting me. Gradually, my roar, my gnash was louder and more fierce than anyone elses. But I missed the comfort of home. I missed who I am. I set sail across the days, weeks, and years. I made it back home and my dinner is still warm.