It's there, all right. Fighting for dominance, even now. Perhaps you already know it. Or, you don't believe me - in which case, you are already in danger of losing the battle.

This post is, in part, inspired by the insightful work of @corpsvalues and the discussion that followed this article. Since the post is well past payout, if you'd like to show your support I suggest supporting his cartoon-off initiative.

A story you may have heard, often incorrectly attributed to the Cherokee, goes something like this:

A battle is raging within every human heart; a battle between two wolves. One wolf is anger, fear, jealously, false pride, vindictiveness, greed while the other wolf is love, gratitude, generosity, peace, courage, and wisdom.
Which wolf wins?
The one you feed.

The idea that this story, just like the legend of Medusa, is adapted or subverted from an older culture is not lost on me. However, going down that road feeds a different wolf from the one I want to feed with this writing.

Unlike the legend of Medusa, Two Wolves isn't even really a story. It's a metaphor, one which resonates because it speaks to a truth we all know but we struggle to understand.

The truth?
There Will Always Be Resistance.

Anything you want to build, anything you value will require care and feeding. Not only care and feeding: it will require vigilance. Neither wolf ever "wins"; the battle persists for as long as either wolf can be fed.

I found another version of the wolves parable, which attempts to elaborate further:

..."if I only choose to feed the white wolf, the black one will be hiding around every corner waiting for me to become distracted or weak and jump to get the attention he craves...
To feed only one would starve the other and they will become uncontrollable. ”

Though I liked this one better the first time I read it, some problems now glare out at me.

In what I believe is a well-meaning but erroneous attempt to translate the story into the "original" Cherokee (my first cited source gives me reason to doubt those origins), the author starts by elaborating on something that is only implied in the more concise parable:

You can never defeat your dark wolf. You can only contend with it.

Unfortunately, it then goes on to make exactly that error. By highlighting the positive aspects of the inner dark wolf and saying both wolves can win and live in peace, this version of the story implies you can marry the positive aspects of both light and dark without a struggle. This is a fallacy, and I believe a dangerous one.

"Newt: My mommy always said there were no monsters - no real ones - but there are.
Ripley: Yes, there are, aren't there?
Newt: Why do they tell little kids that?
Ripley: Most of the time it's true."
--Aliens (1986)

Monsters Feed on Darkness

There's this tendency to try and make every story good, every character redeemable, to find wisdom and grace even in tragedy - of course there is. We all want to minimize suffering and build something positive. But there's a problem: monsters always come from dark places.

I don't mean "evil" when I say dark, but let's not kid ourselves. Evil also comes from dark places. Darkness is the unknown and unexplored. Fear, anger, pain, and all the things you wish to avoid are there - but also courage, wisdom, and resilience that can only come from experiencing these dark places.

"I wonder if we are brave," said Frog.
Frog and Toad looked into a mirror.
"We look brave," said Frog.
"Yes, but are we?" asked Toad.

_{--Dragons and Giants in Frog and Toad Together, by Arnold Lobel}

Fear comes from the unknown. Pain is almost always unexpected. Anger sparks when things conflict with your beliefs or your plans. Avoiding these things does not weaken them. If you don't contend with the dangers hiding in the unknown, they will grow until they can consume you.

So why do we tell children that there are no monsters? It's a lie. A lie to make ourselves feel better - one we may even believe. And if we avoid the truth to make ourselves more comfortable, which wolf have we fed?

If you've been caught up in this fallacy, right now you'll be thinking, "but stories aren't real." Only it doesn't matter if they are real - stories convey truth in a way we can understand even if we haven't experienced it, and they help us to understand the things we have experienced.

The story of Medusa (the Greco-Roman version), survives to this day because it conveys an important truth. Medusa was a monster. She became a monster because terrible things happened to her, and they were dealt with in the worst possible way. Maybe you have sympathy for the monster and want to change her fate, but then you change the story. You lose the truth that this story has conveyed for millenia:

Anyone who looked at Medusa turned to stone, so no one looked. The monster's power grew. One day, a hero discovered the only way to enter that darkness and defeat that monster.
The tool he used?
A mirror.

Monsters Are Necessary

Have you ever been suffering from some pain or defeat, and had someone tell you it would all work out for the best? Maybe you were ready to hear that message, or maybe you just wanted to punch that person right then. Because that wisdom isn't something you can just be told. It doesn't become true by saying it. If things work out for the best, it will be because you endured the darkness - the only way out is through.

_{Source: Wookieepedia}

"That place… is strong with the dark side of the Force. A domain of evil it is. In you must go."
"What's in there?"
"Only what you take with you."
--Yoda and Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back

Luke Skywalker and the cave. Harry Potter and the horcrux. Frodo Baggins and the ring. Atreyu and the second gate. Over and over again, great stories show us what is necessary to overcome a terrible threat. Before he can contend with the evil outside, the hero must face the hidden darkness within himself. Not to defeat and expel it, but to recognize his own potential and carry it forward into battle.

Come to think of it, there is another common theme:

Being defeated by the monster isn't even the greatest threat. The greatest threat is becoming the monster themselves.

It's their potential for evil that heroes have to recognize, not their potential for good. Those who do not recognize it always become the villain.

_{Source:Kidomaru and the Tengu}

I could not find a text reference for this folklore, but an Aikido teacher told me an interesting story of samurai who would seek out the Tengu to learn from them. Tengu (a kind of demon) eat people, so who would seek them out? One who needed to gain their powers, I guess. On finding a Tengu, the warrior must look into his mirror - a mirror that shows your true nature. If you are unable to look into your own true nature, you will be eaten. Those who can look into the mirror will learn the secrets of the Tengu.

Imagine a world without monster stories, in which heroes aren't needed because the villains rescue themselves.

Medusa isn't punished, she handles her tragedy with grace and spends her days mentoring young Athenian priestesses.
Voldemort forgives his father and donates money to the muggle orphanage.
Anakin Skywalker mourns his wife, gets expelled from the Jedi order, and raises his young twins alone.

In real life, we want it to go like that. A little sad, not all that exciting, but much pain and suffering avoided.

Young Adolf expresses his anger and bitterness through art. He and his countrymen slowly come to terms with their loss and begin to rebuild.

Oh wait, sometimes it doesn't go that way in real life. And in those times we really, really need to learn from monsters and from heroes.

How Can We Learn From Monsters?

_{Listen to Gollum, dummy. Image Source}

There is monster potential in you. If you haven't discovered it yet, you have been far too comfortable for far too long. If you've avoided pain, suppressed anger, and denied fear, those potentials within you have grown wild and woolly while the parts of you that could contest with evil have languished.

This is important. When real evil comes along, we really need you to not become a monster.

“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. The latter procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular.”
--Carl Jung
_Source

If you are still reading, my hope is that you realize the importance of your own dark side. You know that you can never eradicate it, and that it will accompany you into every challenge you face.
Which side will win?
Which side do you feed?

The part of you that is noble, brave, and resilient can only be fed by contending with your darker side. If you don't know where to find your darker side, ask yourself:
What do I fear?
What do I resist?
What do I avoid?
What makes me angry?
What do I blame on outside forces?
What do I criticise in other people?

You will also need to adopt at least one practice that pushes your limits. Something you can develop but never perfect. A sport, an art, or a craft can do this.

Your practice may lead you to find a mentor. Just as knowledge of monsters is necessary to understand your vulnerabilities, the wisdom of mentors can show you what you may become.

"In every story, there is a hero and a villain.
In your story, you are both.
...
Your fears and your darkness aren’t detached from you. Do not eschew them.
Face them, analyze them, internalize them.
The shadow is always there and it will always be.
But the shadow can look big or it can look small, depending on the angle from which the light caresses you.
What is the size of your shadow?"
--Adrian Iliopoulos, Carl Jung, Shadow, and Self

What's your monster like? How do you face it?

Me, I write about it:

On Loss, and Growth (Part 1)
On Loss, and Growth (Part 2)
Fear and Loathing