Cats can be assholes

Cats can be assholes.

But they also sense when we are sore or sad or sick and they come close to bring comfort. My sister’s cat wouldn’t come near me until that one day when I was feeling awful. It hopped up beside me on the sofa.

I thought it odd at the time, but now I see it as a form of love. The cat came close out of the goodness of its heart.

The goodness of its heart.

The stuff out of which we are all made. 

We are all composed of goodness. The cat. Even an asshole cat. Even an asshole person. Or a tricky awful situation. All composed of goodness. 

Can I relax my heart and meet these things with the same goodness? Can I meet that stupid, unsolvable problem with tenderness?

Why not? Cats do.

People do stuff for good reasons

A friend with diabetes turns to sweets when she needs comfort. A schizophrenic turns to cigarettes because the nicotine eases his symptoms. I may know that these things are harmful, but there is a logic to their choices.

Some years ago, a new neighbour had a 'getting-to-know-you' thing planned. When she invited me, I told her I'd be delighted to come if I was feeling up to it. Rather than saying something like, "I hope you come," she said "You need to push yourself to do things outside your comfort zone." She caught me on a cranky day; I had no tolerance for even mild bullying. Rather than letting this slide, I asked her "What makes you think you are qualified to tell me what I am up to and what I am not?" Her mouth closed with a snap. She blinked a few times. And said no more. I realize she had pretty good intentions. In her mind it was a form of encouragement. She's a pretty nice person overall. But, no. Not today.

People do stuff for good reasons. Stuff we don't like. Stuff we don't think they should do. Stuff that we know will likely lead to a bad end. Yet it's theirs to do. When we don't recognize the intelligence that's already there, our intervention changes from helpful advice to bullying.

People do stuff for good reasons.

A nice place to sit and have a picnic

When I walk through the woods, my favourite spots are the ones with heavy tree cover but a view to the world outside. 

When I came across one of them in the forest, I thought, "This would be a nice place to sit and have a picnic." It was surrounded by trees and shrubs, making the spot all but invisible to those looking in, yet I could see what was going on in the meadows next door.

I came across another today as I walked through the cedars. The second I stepped out from under their cover, the energy felt different. I stepped back into the trees. It felt better. Not just to the senses, but my body felt more at ease.

In the light of turbulent world events, I'm not surprised that this kind of place is where I feel the best - tucked away fairly safely but still aware of the broader picture. 

And I wonder how much of that is biological.