What makes someone “Wild”? Is it their spirit, their actions, their mentality, or their lifestyle? If I had to guess, I would say it’s a healthy mixture of all of those things. When I think of wild, and more importantly, wild people, I typically think of those people who live their lives the way they want and not how society/school/parents/teachers tell them to live. When I think of wild, I think of those who refuse to be tamed, those who refuse to conform, and those who instead choose to chase their dreams and find their happiness in extraordinary places.
Many times, I’ve considered myself wild, but only to certain degrees. I say, “Only to certain degrees,” because of the inherent fear of making a decision, really. Paris has always called to me, and my original plan was to graduate from college (with my liberal arts degree in English), buy a one-way ticket to Paris, strap some clothes and my easel to my back, and go live as a waif for a year painting on the streets in the City of Love. This “original plan” was an altered plan from the several “original” plans before it, which involved me first becoming a veterinarian and then a college professor (neither of which has come to fruition).
Does it make me any less wild because I stuck with the security of the [somewhat] known world? I didn’t move to a different state (yet), though I did move out on my own (and stayed there, even when times were their hardest). I didn’t get to Paris yet, but I have flown overseas (and that was terrifying – I’m a bad flyer, apparently). I haven’t taken a cross-country road trip as an adult (yet), but I road tripped across the United States (twice) as a child with my father and brother.
I don’t think these “shortcomings” make me any less wild, inherently. I say that because, in my heart of hearts, I long to travel. I long to see this beautiful country as an adult, to explore the places I went as a child and to find new places. My soul was never meant to be stationary, and when it is and I become “stagnant,” I long for anything and everything that breaks the mold – whether it’s practicing yoga in the park alone, creating a new piece of art or dancing around my apartment in the buff. I seek out new experiences and new people, though sometimes old friends are the best friends – especially when they’re just as wild as you are.
I’ve never been one to be seen as “normal,” and I’ve never really been upset by that. I left my hometown as fast as I could; when I go back now, I typically see very few people because of my wild, atypical nature. I’ve never fit a mold, and I don’t ever intend to – as my brother and I often laughed about, I march to the beat of my own damn band (forget just the drum).
Meredith Loos is her mother’s “hippie flower child” who wears her heart on her sleeve and sees the world through rose-colored glasses. Always the hopeless romantic, Meredith is a writer and a poet, a painter and a charcoal artist, a fierce lover of love and the beauty of the world; she loves yoga, stargazing, soulful music, thought-provoking conversation with intriguing people, and nights that turn into mornings.