Seamus - Professor of Patience

I woke to the soft, plaintiff meow of Seamus, my gorgeous, long-haired tabby. It was Saturday morning and I desperately longed to sleep in. Yet there I was groggily rolling over to allow him to crawl up on my tummy to for some quality petting time well before any alarm clock I might of set was due to go off.

As I lay there scratching him between his ears, listening to the loud rumble of his contented purr, I smiled to myself remembering how a few years back this would have never happened.

Our other cat, Rudy, had been very insistent that he needed a companion in the middle of the night. So off to the Humane Society my son and I had headed. Seamus had caught our eye immediately. And in the getting-to-know-you room he was Mister Lovey-Dovey, sweeping us both off of our feet.

We brought him home expecting an easy transition. I pictured myself sitting on the sofa with him curled up in my lap. After all cats love me. I'm not sure what Seamus's previous life was like, but easy is not how the transition went.

He spent most of the first six months camped out on top of the kitchen cabinets. He only came down at night when we were in bed. When he finally quit hanging out there, he moved into my son's closet, hiding in its dark depths. I wondered if this was going to work, if we were the right home for him, if he was ever going to adapt.

I remember my surprise the first time he reached out with his paw to catch my hand and pull it towards his head. He was sitting alertly on our coffee table and I walked by on the way to the kitchen to get my morning tea. I stopped and scratched his head. And believe it or not, my more-than-timid cat began to purr.

Working to help Seamus feel safe and loved in our home has been a lesson in patience. Author David G. Allen defined patience this way, "Patience is the calm acceptance that things can happen in a different order than the one you have in mind." I find it requires acceptance and gratitude.

It requires me to release my own expectations of how things should be and when they should be that way. It calls me to allow what I cannot rush, what I cannot control to unfold in its own time and in its own way. Had I not allowed Seamus to adapt on his own time and in his own way, I would never have known the treasured moments we share. In fact he may have become so stressed we may have needed to find him a new home.

Patience flows easiest when we learn to be grateful for the process. With Seamus, I celebrated each milestone. Each step he took towards socialization and integration within our home. His first time headbutting me. The first time he and Rudy groomed each other. The first night he lay on the pillow next to mine.

Change is difficult, but patience allows us to find peace in the turmoil.

#change, #patience, #expectations

A Horse Named Crumble

Photo by Asaiah Brazile

 The first time I went horseback ridding, I spent the entire hour long ride eating the dust of the two horses ahead of me.

My son's horse was much faster and stayed close to our guide's horse. Probably why he was named Swift.

My horse, on the other hand, plodded along at his own pace - slow. I nudged. I prodded. I cajoled. Crumble would speed up for a pinch. Then he slowed back down. Even at a trot, he was much slower than the rest.

Stepping over the uneven terrain, he picked each step with care, testing the ground beneath his hoof before letting it hold all of his weight and mine.

Gradually I released my urge to drive ahead, to rush through the experience. In that moment, I saw the beauty of nature all around me. I saw trees that had survived a wildfire. Their bark altered by the smoke and flames, yet still they thrived. I noticed the little flowers and the brook we crossed. It was a glorious ride.

Sometimes the ride of life is similar. Our impatience with change drives us to try to push through it faster. And we find ourselves frustrated, unable to affect the ultimate pace.

Photo by Asaiah Brazile

In those moments, we can learn from a horse named Crumble.

1. Be intentional. Change can be tricky. Being sure-footed requires being completely present in the here and now. Take the time to make sure each step is true to you. 
2. Be patient. I know how hard this one can be. I'm known for my go-go-go, focused, driven nature, which doesn't leave much room for patience. But I'm learning its value. Major life transitions place you squarely in uncharted territory. It takes time to figure things out. To find a way to embrace the change and let it enhance the core of your being. Being patient is one way you can show yourself the love and respect you deserve.
3. Enjoy the ride. Yes, the path may be rocky and uneven. It may seem to be filled with hurt. But sometimes, if you take the time to look up from the journey, you will find that even though the scenery has changed and every thing is different, there still is beauty.

Someday, the path you're on now will come to an end. You'll find you're not exactly who you were when you started. But you will have survived and even learned to thrive!

#change, #intentionalliving, #patience