windfall: a sudden, unexpected piece of good fortune

Thursday, September 1, 2011

The Steppenwolf Sleeps Tonight

What's new with the Steppenwolf? What calms him? What helps him sleep? I can't believe that he is fated to trot alone, to and fro, his face pressed in at the windows of the well-to-do, half wanting to be let in, half needing his solitude.

The Steppenwolf craves understanding. Not acceptance by a segment of the population, but through individual love derived from possibly several people who fully agree to open the door to him. A Steppenwolf meeting another, just like him? That's hard to believe.

It's the corniest thing in the world. He just wants to be loved like everybody else. "Everybody else" is easy to love; to love the Steppenwolf you have to be a saint, an artist, a genius, to have breadth of mind and soul and most of all, courage. That word "courage" is from the Latin, meaning "heart." You have to have that too.

Why courage? To love the Steppenwolf means to accept duality. A woman who wants to be possessed in every way and at the same time, to sleep alone; who can laugh and charm others while simultaneously inching away from the crowd, body half out the door while saying a cheery goodbye; a child-woman who is a good girl and gets good grades while slinking down the back alley and starting fires.

Why bother? There are so many nice, pretty women walking down the street every day. To love the Steppenwolf is so exhausting. But when an individual tries to do this he is indeed rewarded, and for life.

Finally, there is the question of sexual identity. Can a woman have only a female Steppenwolf? I don't know that. Mine is male. If Carl Jung were reading this he would laugh and shrug his shoulders. He's the one who developed the idea of anima and animus. Maybe I should leave it at that. None of my ideas are new, and my Steppenwolf hates show-offs.


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