In Jack London’s White Fang, we read about a fight that takes place in the Canadian wild—two male wolves, battling to the death for the chance to mate with a she-wolf.

The she-wolf is pleased:

  • And all the while the she-wolf sat on her haunches and smiled. She was made glad in vague ways by the battle, for this was the lovemaking of the Wild, the sex-tragedy of the natural world that was tragedy only to those that died. To those that survived it was not tragedy, but realization and achievement.

It’s a reminder that the natural world is king. That it reigns above all. Armani suits, Louis Vuitton handbags…they’re like a Halloween mask. When the accouterments are removed, we see the human reality: stark, naked, and without pretense. A battle to the death for food and the privilege of mating.

Many people think that they’re entitled to happiness—they deserve a quality mate. They’ve worked hard, they’ve endured suffering, and they’ve wept a million tears. They’ve taken the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. And now someday…they shall be released! They’ll be rewarded for years of passive suffering.

They don’t realize that they’re like the White Fang wolves—battling against each other for survival. And when the battle is over, we see the winners and losers. We see those that have risen, and those that have fallen.

The strength to survive, to fight. To grow stronger and wiser with each error. To withstand the cold and become better than before.

Strength is the marking of a wolf.

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