The Lure of the Wild Boar

Si tu réalises que la vie n’est pas là (if you realize that life is not there)  Que le matin tu te lèves (that in the morning you get up) Sans savoir où tu vas (without knowing where you’re going) Résiste (resist)  Prouve que tu existes (prove that you exist) Cherche ton bonheur partout, va, (look for your happiness all over, go) Refuse ce monde égoïste (say no to this selfish world) Résiste. Suis ton coeur qui insiste (Resist. Follow your heart, it insists) Ce monde n’est pas le tien, viens,(that this world is not yours, come)

… Danse pour tous ceux qui ont peur (dance for all those who are afraid)
Danse pour les milliers de cœurs (dance for the thousands of hearts)
Qui ont droit au bonheur (that deserve to be happy)
Résiste (Resist)

[from the song “Résiste” by Michel Berger (1947-1992)]

The Regiment of Ardennian Rifles (Régiment des Chasseurs Ardennais) is an infantry regiment in the Belgian Armed Forces. It was my Dad’s home for most of his military career. Its emblem –a wild boar’s head- hangs on my living room wall cast in a small tin plate. Its commanding motto is printed in my heart and brain: “Résiste et Mords” [‘Resist and Bite’]. My siblings and I grew up in the shadow of this untamed beast. We bit our tongues more than once and resist, we did. The temptation to be different. The lure of foreign battles. We became good army boars, dutiful and resilient, showing respect and obeying orders.

Resistance is not very popular these days. Resistance to mutating germs threatens to wipe off mankind. Resistance to insulin is spreading faster than sweet jam. “What we resist persists”, we’re told. From negative thoughts to illness. We’re to get in the flow. We’re to let go and let God if we have any hope of being showered with life’s material and spiritual riches. Surrender is the preferred choice. The path of least resistance promises to be the 21st century highway to Heaven. Forget about biting anyone. It’s just not done anymore.  Love is the answer. We strive to connect and hold hands with our fellow men.” And I’m all for it. Indeed I am. But I can’t help wondering about another kind of ‘resist’. The kind that moves us beyond the war zone and the casualties. The strength that propels us through life’s trials and losses. The deep need to venture past what we’ve been taught is acceptable or proper. The desire to shake the darkness until it explodes into a myriad of hopeful stars. Have you ever felt this surge of resistance?

When my father passed away my Mom assured me that she would do everything she could to survive without him (quite a feat after 56 years of marriage). She hugged me tight and declared: “I’m going to be ok. I resist but I don’t bite.” Her simple statement reminded me that the wild boar personifies warrior spirit, fortitude, and leadership. He’s strong and intrepid. He faces challenges with bravery, refusing to yield. My mother was not to win her fight against loneliness; she had no bite left in her. She capitulated to emptiness and depression. In her name I’m now choosing to bite into life with renewed enthusiasm and a ferocious appetite. In my father’s memory I accept the mission to stand for what is honorable and true. It is time I graduated from army to wild boar. Because when we resist the temptation to remain amongst life’s predictable or wounded, we persist. And when we step forward into the unknown and fight for our happiness, we prevail. Only then can we surrender to the power of love, to the simple beauty of being alive.

Dare to resist! Dare to find out who you are, to disobey, and to claim proudly the reason you’re alive. Choose to combat your inner demons and to become a warrior of light. Show courage and determination. You will make a difference in the world when you dance to your own tune and bring hope to those who are too afraid to do so.  Life needs you. Don’t give up or in. Accept the invitation of the wild boar: Resist and bite.

Maryse G. Copans © 2011



I’ve fallen in love again. And it feels wonderful. The smile is back on my face. I’m not walking on clouds; I’m skipping on the kitchen floor and humming my favorite tunes. I tease my husband and drive the children crazy. It’s love, I tell you. LOVE.

I can hear you from here: “Poor Maryse! Too many years in the dark. Too many struggles and losses. She’s finally gone gaga. She’s going to pull an Elizabeth Gilbert (author of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ and ‘Committed’) and vanish to the depths of Brazil, where dashing Osmar will teach her the rudiments of samba and caipirinha.” I can see your texts: “Have you gone mad? What’s happened to you? What about your responsibilities? WRITE BACK ASAP!”

I’ve read enough about rebirths in Himalayan monasteries or in the slums of Calcutta to know that I had as much hope of finding renewed excitement and meaning in my New York suburban home as of seducing George Clooney on my next flight to Belgium.  So where is this buzz coming from? What is the source of this happy electricity coursing through me? I had neither the strength to haul my cargo of grief and fear to the other side of the world nor the energy to practice the wonderful self-help exercises I collected over the years. When blizzard conditions shut down my inner airport, all bets were off.  And yet it’s happened. In the lonely waiting lounge, with the gates to sunnier skies temporarily closed and my ticket to happiness thrown in the nearby garbage can. It’s happened. I haven’t found the love of my life (it actually found me some 20 years ago). I have re-discovered my love of life.

It does not involve a huge trip to the outposts of my personal desert. It does not ask that I leave my family behind. All it takes is the decision to LIVE. I repeat: all that is required is my active choice FOR life. Beyond crying spells and panic attacks I now offer my life the gift my children receive everyday: unconditional love. It does not make the pain disappear. Fatigue and anxiety are not gone. But in the space created for love, optimism and light are growing strong. Laughter and music have found their way back into my heart and their rhythm signals a new departure: it’s time I focused on all that is good. It’s ok to dream again and believe in the future. Guess what? My health is improving too. Permission for takeoff finally granted. Phew!

This re-found love lightens my step and refreshes my soul. It lifts me up so that I can touch the sweet clouds of my own infinite possibilities. It makes me fly and soar with two feet firmly planted on the (kitchen) floor. No need for Osmar and the liquor. My positive choice for life is a daily happy fix. I’ll be the one taking my husband and kids to Brazil. We’ll dance the samba together. And we’ll send you a text: “Landed safely in love. With life. With each other. :)”

My deepest thanks to Brad Yates, my EFT coach/wizard ( who encouraged me to write this post and to Gary Blier at ACT ( for his codes and patient care. You are both doing the work of love and helping me regain my health and my life.

Maryse G. Copans © 2011