Over the last few days thoughts have lingered in my mind with regard to Regina Mills, and Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time, aka The Evil Queen and Rumpelstiltskin.  I realise that to reference a fantasy show is not exactly the most academic of endeavours. (I could potentially discuss the benefits of Shakespeare on the mind and the developmental cycle of a human being; however, I will leave that for another day.)  

When fantastical characters are looked upon, it is quite simple in concept, the evil humans evoke horrific thoughts of destruction and the good defend and fight for the rights of the less fortunate -- regardless of material or soulful concepts.  Not entirely accurate as humans have a variety of layers, and directions. Imagine if you will, a compass, with the simple North, East, South, West, format. Now picture another compass placed directly above the original, turn clockwise to a 45-degree angle; keep adding layers to the original compass and turning them until the angles align with the flat ends of two osculating compasses that form a full circle.  Each pathway offers perspective, some have the proclivity for plasticity, others cemented in their thought process -- no matter how many times an attempt is made to change a timeline.  The reason that the Evil Queen, and Rumpelstiltskin come to mind is that they are immensely resilient, characters who have made atrocious decisions and who have learned, who have grown. Absent of winning, a road lined with all that is right and expressed as far removed from winning as possible.  I had a really long conversation with one of my professors a few years back concerning the differences between being right and winning. As much, as I saw this professor’s perspective, I respectfully disagreed, any course of action that propels someone to victory absent of what is right will lead to a castle built on the powderiest of icing sugar. Not only that, it also takes morsels of one’s humanity in thoughtless action.  

Both these characters wanted to win so desperately they could taste the victory on their lips.  It is insane how we try to shape ourselves in visions of who we are absent the pain that we endure.  Humility has its face poised to an authentic understanding of life that it sometimes means an extreme amount of pain or torture. To be able to ensconce ourselves in one’s ugly, sit in the quite moments where we are relegated to a gilded cage, unable to move in any direction. A labyrinth constructed of the most frightful oubliette. Incredible what human beings will share, the most repugnant stories.  Are these stories shared as a point of reference to qualify an understanding of wanting to finally be seen or to be enclosed in a confessional that allows for one to share the authentic self, hoping simply to be loved. Even though their thoughts are solidified with a “no f*cks given” attitude, that love is desired, that they feel unworthy as said attitude  is easier than the philosophy and capacity of allowing themselves to be adored. How anyone can walk away from love in its purest form allows me to see this incessant quandary, when two of the evilest characters simply wanted love, something transferable from fairytale creature to that of a human with bone and marrow.