Visiting Kittens
Cat person alert! Yes, I confess, I am one of "those" people. I have often wished that people I care about would give birth to kittens instead of babies, because I find them so much more relatable. My grandson exempted himself from this rule, but only after he arrived on the scene - during the "cooking" phase - I still hoped for kittens.
My story takes place on a Wednesday - a Wednesday that, much to my surprise, I had only one evening commitment, no immediate deadlines, a long list of things to do that didn't inspire me in the moment, and I found myself remembering the words of my coach, "There is a kind of gentleness beyond what you have ever imagined. Be open to discovering it." Well, okay...I wonder what that means?
Turns out, for all of the gentleness I do understand and teach, there may be another, deeper level to settle into. So, with openness, I witnessed my empty day, and rather than pushing myself to "do" something, particularly something I didn't feel inspired to accomplish, I asked myself: What would you like for today that is fun? If you give yourself this time, without self-judgment, and you tap into your sense of play, what might that look like?
I stumped myself with those questions, and yet, I felt proud for injecting curiosity, rather than self-judgment into my day. Every so often, I'll feel that I didn't do something well enough. I attach to the feeling of "doing it wrong" to the exclusion of all other data. No contrary information, no evidence of my way being "fine" or "the norm" or "just right" gets past the barrier of my attachment. Like the child having a tantrum, who doesn't hear that the reason you're driving to the zoo a little later is to see the new lion cubs, and only perceives the "not going" part. Do you know this one at all?
So, on this Wednesday, I gave myself the space to be okay with whatever the day offered. I allowed for the possibility that this time, however I relate to it, facilitates a learning for me. Maybe even a new way to learn about gentleness.
Why gentleness? Well, like anything, my day is open to interpretation, but here's how it played out. I took the morning to clean up a few loose ends on a variety of fronts. When my husband came home for lunch, I asked if he had any ideas about what I might do with my day that could be fun and playful - something that I may not do ordinarily, because this empty day was not, in fact, ordinary. He listed one thing after another, and finally he said, "Maybe you can go find some kittens to visit - you always like that." That stopped me in my tracks.
He knows me well. I love visiting kittens. In fact, when the litter my girls were born into arrived, I went directly from the airport (after a vacation) to the home of the new kittens. I then visited with them several times (note - they were in CT and I was in MA), before bringing them home...plus leaving them the occasional message on the answering machine, so they would know my voice. With my two boy cats, I wanted to visit the moment they were born! I had to wait over a week, though, before I was allowed in the house. And I was only granted one more visit before I picked them up. The photo above is from that middle visit, when Clarence fell asleep in my hands. Seriously, what's better than that?
So, what is it about visiting kittens? Ironically, I think it's the gentleness, combined with a wonderment of innocence and a natural sense of play. Kittens have been teachers for me, even when I was unaware of the lesson they offered. And it hasn't mattered if they were to be my own kittens or someone else's, the resulting joy for me remains the same.
I don't know anyone who has kittens right now, but my friend just brought home two chocolate lab puppies a couple of weeks ago. My first time meeting them was delightful! Maybe it's not just kittens...puppies seem to invoke the gentleness reminder, too. The possibilities of learning about this deeper level of gentleness excite me. May you find and revel in the gentleness of your own being as we say farewell to 2012 and welcome 2013.
With love and gentleness,
Joanne Lutz