Love is why I came here in the first place.
~John Denver
Love
Loving Is Easy, Loving Is Hard
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.
Happy Valentine’s!
A Thought for Valentine’s Day
“This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love: the more they give, the more they possess.” – Rainer Maria Rilke
Letting Go of Fear … in Creativity, in Life
Fear is the antithesis of love. We are in fear when we bemoan our fate that we are not yet published. We are in fear when we relentlessly edit and re-edit and edit yet again something that, in all likelihood, is just fine. We are in fear when we overwork an aspect of our illustration, striving for some elusive perfection. It’s not that uncommon to think and behave this way. Most of us were raised to be good, to be perfect, to be loved conditionally. As were those who raised us.
And what we most need in our lives, our work, is not fear, but love. When we write and illustrate books for children, we always bring forth our best work when it is coming out of love … not anxiety about its success or perfection, or how well we are faring compared to others, or how much recognition we’ll gain. But love. It would seem so easy, but for so many of us it is not.
Below is the quote that I had mentioned in my last post. It is by Marianne Williamson, metaphysical teacher, and from the book A Return to Love, her reflections on the principles of A Course in Miracles, published in 1975. All of Williamson’s work is focused on growing into our richest selves, letting go of fear and living truly in love. And I believe it has a profound meaning for us as we venture forth as writers and artists, aspiring to light the way for children.
Everyday Grace
My deepest fear is not that I am inadequate.
My deepest fear is that I am powerful beyond measure.
It is my light, not my darkness, that most frightens me.
I ask myself, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who am I not to be? I am a child of God. My playing small
does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won’t feel insecure around me. I am meant to
shine, as children do. I was born to manifest the glory of God that is within me.
It’s not just in me; it’s in everyone.
And as I let my own light shine, I unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same. As I am liberated from my own fear,
my presence automatically liberates others.
These words struck me so deeply in their undeniable truth. As a writer and illustrator of children’s books, aspiring to bring my gifts to young people, I can soar to heights in joy as I work or tumble to crushing frustration. Fear. All fear. And though living lives through fear in varying degrees is common to so many people on the planet, it seems to almost be the inheritance of all sensitive, creative people. I know there is a better way; I’ve known for a long time, and so, I suspect, have you.
From time to time, books, individuals, ideas, etc. cross our paths, and usually, at times when we are ready to take the next step out of fear and into grace … into love. This book has been sitting on my bookshelf for about 9 months, and through a mention of the quote above from a friend, I took this book from the shelf. It was time – there are no coincidences.
Living in love, free of fear, is a great challenge. We were not raised that way. Shaman and author Don Miguel Ruiz calls it “domestication.” It is all the same. And what’s so wonderful is that there is never a bad time to take another step, to let go of fear and our belief that we should be small, to believe instead in the love and brilliance we are.
I find A Return to Love an amazing book, as is A Woman’s Worth, both by Williamson. Perhaps an inspiration for you, too. Please also know, if it makes a difference to you, that Williamson’s writings do not espouse any specific religious orientation – her writing is of a spiritual nature, and so speaks to us all.
Still A Dreamer 