Loving Is Easy, Loving Is Hard

/ still a dreamer / 6 Comments

Falling in love is always the easy part. Then it gets complicated. Why? Because “the other” has their own ways, their own ideas, their own habits, their own fears.

It doesn’t matter if “the other” is human or animal; no matter how hard we try, we cannot help but bring our own hopes, expectations, ideas, habits and fears to the table. Case in point – an animal one – elsewhere on this blog, I have mentioned that I feed a small feral cat with tuxedo markings whom I’ve named Little Fee. He’s been coming around since he was 9 months old or so, and that was the summer of 2009. He comes like clockwork for breakfast and dinner, and snacks in between from the bowl on my back porch when not chased away by one of the cats next door.

If not waiting for me on the back porch, he comes to his name when called. Yet he is extremely fearful and will not be touched or approached. He has never been missing for more than 2 days, and that was only after severe snowstorms. But now he is missing 2-1/2 days. What has happened to him?

The scenarios for a feral cat are … 1) Hit by a car  2) attacked by another animal  3) injured and laying low somewhere while healing  4) accidentally trapped in a shed, garage, etc.  5) poisoned  6) trapped by a human and removed with any number of intentions – to be neutered and returned, taken to the local shelter and/or to be killed. None but one of them are good. And there is nothing I can really do about any of them.

One of the things about loving another – be it human or animal – is that it is always fraught with risk.  Perhaps the greatest risk is giving up control, for it is the one thing we cannot have when another being is involved, or at least not without potential harm to ourselves or them. And one of the things about loving and caring for a feral cat, I see, is that I have no control at all.

And still we, in all our yearning humanity, risk loving again and again, knowing that we cannot control much … only our own thoughts, really. We can offer the best of ourselves to another being, offer our love, and then it’s out of our hands.

As for me, I keep intermittent vigil at my back door … watching and hoping … hoping my voice, my love, can bring this small being back and help heal him, if needed; hoping he’s not gone forever.

UPDATE, MARCH 1 –

The Fee has returned! In one of my porch checks late last night there he was, looking none the worse for wear, a bit hungry, and happy to be fed. Breathing easier at last.

Taking the Easy Read

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

Have you had times in your life when you just couldn’t get through a book? No focus, no attention, but somewhere inside still longing to read? I think we all have, and as one who loves reading, I find it quite disconcerting, but there it is.

Difficult times are just a part of life, and for months there have been a bit more in my own than I’d like. During this time, I switched from book to book, but couldn’t really focus. So I returned to my ever-faithful and always-waiting selection of unread books, hoping to find the one that would ease me back into reading. And I found it, Dear John by Nicholas Sparks. I checked out all the quickie reviews, and this seems like the book for me – a love story that will engage me but not rip my heart out, that will entertain me without boring me. It’s taking the easy read, but I believe it will hit the spot right now.

And then … much like baking muffins for myself in broad daylight … I did what I really needed, (and wanted). to do. I gave myself the gift of curling up in a chair in the afternoon sun and I began to read Dear John. The cats take this sunshine-seeking in stride; they find the brightest spot of light, position themselves for maximum exposure, and luxuriate in the warmth. I decided to do the same. The dust, the vacuuming, the laundry … it’s not going anywhere.

We need to give ourselves these small gifts, whatever they may be. They make us feel whole. And happy. Why not give yourself a gift today?

Listen to Your Heart

/ still a dreamer

This is another beautiful piece of music by the incomparable Mike Rowland, which accompanies a touching film of Emperor Penguins by Ruedi & Priska Abbühl. The music might be classified as New Age or meditation music if that helps you know if you’d like to listen. But the combination of these magnificent animals, so sensitively filmed, with Mike Rowlands music is, well… for me, just heaven … right to the wonderful end — you’ll just have to watch and see.

While working, I listen to music – often iTunes. Today, under the Ambient category in iTunes I listened to a French station – Frequences Relaxation – Music therapy to relax mind, body and spirit. And that it did. Along the way, they played a piece by Mike Rowland and I thought you would enjoy it; I hope you do. I find his music calming and centering. Along these lines, I posted a piece of his work not too long ago,  Enchanted, which also features simply magical visuals.

A Teensy Sign

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

You know how when you’re really busy and/or distracted and/or not feeling 100%, (or whatever), something can happen and you shrug it off, chalk it up to “it couldn’t be helped?” But then the next day you’re kind of bummed about it?

Well, after running around on Saturday, I was pretty tired at night, so decided to leave my front earrings in, no big deal. Didn’t bother even checking them. Small studs rarely come out overnight. Except … I woke up Sunday morning, and one of them, indeed, was missing. I did a search of the likely places it could have gone, and then, just chalked it up to “whatever.”

But as the day wore on, I was bummed about it. They are these cool little Celtic knots, and had become my “go-to” earrings when I couldn’t decide what to put in my ears, or needed something simple to complement a busy shirt or scarf … my back-up earrings. Damn. Now I was really bummed at the prospect of never having them to wear again. Who knows when or where I got them? OK, so be it. Life goes on; this is the small stuff.

So now it’s Monday morning, a boatload of stuff to do, and I lean over to see how the stain on my “Berber” living room carpet is coming along – the cat vomit one I had Nature-Miracled to death – and there’s the earring, hiding in plain sight. I still find it bizarre how such a tiny thing – quite literally, too – can so brighten a day; I was grinning from ear to ear, and felt like I ought to be thanking somebody. Was I just plain lucky? (Since I don’t believe in coincidences, I tend to doubt that.) I could go on with my own personal conjectures, but I won’t. What it seemed like to me – as these seemingly insignificant instances in all our lives can be – was that it was a sign – a teensy one – that all was well.

And you know what? I’ll take it.

Women Helping Women or ….

/ still a dreamer

If you give to any charities, you are aware that most charities sell their mailing lists to other charities. So where you may be a regular supporter of a few, you receive scores of other appeals requesting your donations to support their mission.

I understand this. What I find particularly difficult is that because I truly believe in the charities I donate to, those organizations with similar missions often resonate deeply with me as well. How do we decide to whom we give when the funds available to give are limited? I already have a stack I’d like to give to and more requests continue to pour in. In the last couple weeks, I must have received at least 20 appeals, some from those I already give to, and many other charities with worthy missions that want me to come on board with them.

The piece in all of these that really caught my eye told me that:

  • One in three women worldwide are beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused in their lifetime
  • Up to 70% of women worldwide encounter violence.
  • As many as 6 out of 10 migrant women from Central America are raped on their journey to the United States
  • Native American and Alaska Native women are 2.5 times more likely to be raped or sexually assaulted than women in the U.S. in general
  • In 2010 alone, an estimated 15,000 women were raped in eastern Congo.

The letter went on to describe the circumstances of individual women, one in the Democratic Republic of Congo who spoke out about being raped by a soldier and was raped again and bayonetted in the stomach. There are numerous other bone-chilling instances of women being burned because their dowries were too small, stoned to death because they “dishonored” their families, etc. Reference is made to the many women who, unable to support themselves, endure years of domestic abuse.

It is hard to believe that in our so-called enlightened world with all its technological advances that we remain so utterly barbaric towards one half of the human race … women. Madeleine K. Albright said, “There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.”

I feel compelled to help, but how? Do I give financially? Should I give to this organization, (Amnesty International), or to local organizations? Or should I help organizations that fight mammoth industrial giants who will knowingly destroy entire geographical areas and cause widespread species extinction?  Or help American Indian elders without food and heat? Or organizations that fight the worst of animal cruelty? Or … or … or?

Is there not a special place in hell for those of us who are aware of such need and do nothing? I was profoundly struck by these egregious offenses against women, yet I am aware of the need in every corner of the planet, and I, as can we all, can always do something. Whatever it is.

Oddly enough, after reading all these appeals, I remembered why I wanted to write children’s books … I want to open children’s eyes, to show them the love and beauty in the world, but also to show them that they have the power to change what’s wrong. They needn’t know at 5 years old that women are being sexually assaulted throughout the world, but they can know that helping and caring about others, be it humans, animals or our planet, makes a difference. And a well-crafted children’s book can show that in the most un-obvious of ways. So while I’ve yet to figure out where to send my next donation, perhaps  writing from my heart is my unique gift to a troubled world, the gift I can always give.

My guess is that you, no matter how much money you do or don’t have,  have plenty to give, too.