December 29, 2010

"Cats are spontaneous, content to live in the present moment.  They're small, shedding, scratching inscrutable Zen masters out to teach us the paradox of 'undoing' in a hectic world where things always have to be done. "       --Sarah Ban Breathnach

 

Doesn't it sound refreshing to slow down and "undo" all of those things we think need to be done?

Well, not always!

Like many of you during this time of year, I had my annual, cat-inspired lesson in "undoing" the other night. There I was, frantically wrapping gifts for an event I had to be at in less than an hour.  And there was Grafton, my 20-pound "kitten," playing the role of overgrown "elf."

The scene in my "Santa's Workshop" looked something like this--

I'd cut a length of ribbon, lay it on the counter, and my cat would promptly swat it down onto the floor...

I'd cut a square of wrapping paper and lay the roll aside, and my cat would promptly pounce upon it, scooting it across the counter until it also fell off the counter and unrolled itself across the floor...

I'd reach into the plastic bag of gift tags, pull one out to write on, and my cat would attack the bag and... You guessed it, spill the contents of the bag onto the floor...

After only one gift, my kitchen floor was covered with ribbon, yards of unrolled wrapping paper, and dozens of gift tags.

Grafton was beaming...

And I had four gifts to go.

As I wrapped faster, the stakes became higher for my feline friend.  The fur literally flew as he hopped and pounced and swatted and laid upon my once beautiful decorative materials.

As the clock wound down, I was forced to take one of the presents "as is", meaning puncture marks in the sides and a slightly chewed green bow on the top.  My friend didn't mind, though.  She also lives with cats.

 

December 22, 2010

May you use all your wisdom today and every day to have a wonderful
holiday season!

 

December 15, 2010

"I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph."

 --Shirley Temple 

 

For those of you who might not know Shirley Temple, she was a child star in the 1930s and '40s and one of the most well-known celebrities in the world at the time. This quote from her made me chuckle. But, it also made me a bit sad...

It's so easy to become disillusioned with the world around us!

In fact, that one childhood awakening, when we realize that Santa Claus might not be real, can send us down the path of suspicion and mistrust for the rest of our lives.

I don't remember ever being told that Santa isn't real.

I'm 57 and I still cling to my belief in him.

In fact, when I see a picture or a movie about Santa's workshop at the North Pole, my heart literally skips a beat. The Polar Express nearly sent me into seizures!

I don't like the hub-bub and stress of the holidays, but I love, love, love the magic...

To me, there is nothing more magical than sitting in front of a roaring fire with my family and our family pets on Christmas Eve, "waiting for Santa" to visit our home. Even my dogs seem to believe...

While I'm not disillusioned, you may think I'm delusional! But the ancient wisdom traditions tell us we get what we believe. And I believe in Santa and the magic of the holiday season.

Happy Holidays!

 

December 8, 2010

"Ring the bells that still can ring,
forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything;
that's how the light gets in."

 --from Leonard Cohen's song "Anthem"

I live with an elderly cockapoo named Beau.

He can't see very well anymore.
He doesn't hear me call him unless I'm in the same room.
And he can't (or won't bother to) hold his bladder inside for more than a couple of hours. (Don't ask me about my carpets...)

But, despite his failing physical abilities, this dog is always ringing the bells he still can ring, celebrating and enjoying the gifts he still has.

He doesn't try to be perfect.  He just tries to be happy.

For Beau, happy looks like:

• leaping past me to get outside and play when I get home from work, no matter what the weather is doing
• celebrating the highlight of his day -- breakfast -- with puppyish squeals and non-stop wiggles
• greeting everyone who visits with excited barks and curious sniffing
• jumping joyfully into his crate at bedtime, knowing he'll soon be chomping on a delicious reward for a day well lived

Beau reminds me that I can choose to be happy every moment of every day.

He is the definition of resilience; the poster child for an attitude of gratitude.

I need little beings like Beau to remind me that life doesn't always have to be perfect.

With Beau as my guide, I'm more likely to slow down and see the light shining through the cracks and know that it's all good.

 

December 1, 2010

"When a dog recognizes the footsteps of his master, he begins to caper, dance and wag everything behind his ears.  He wants to leap out of his skin to let his master know how glad he is to see him.  With this kind of enthusiastic "hello" who can resist him?  You simply must be his friend because he lets you know so emphatically that he wants to be yours.  A dog teaches a valuable lesson." 

-Albert J. Nimeth. O.F.M.

When my oldest daughter was in junior high, she had some "friend problems."  You know, like the movie Mean Girls friend problems.

It wasn't a fun time.

We used to talk a lot about how we can make friends, be part of "the crowd" and still remain true to ourselves.  You see, for my daughter, remaining true to herself often meant being the "responsible" one; which meant pointing out the various flaws and dangers of her friend's latest escapades or scolding them for their misguided interest in the latest I'm-here-to-break-your-heart bad boy.

Too often, this made her seem like more of a mother than a friend.  And teenage girls don't want to hang out with their mothers!

Friends told her she didn't know how to let go and have fun...
 
So, she spent more time than she would have liked at home with our pack of four dogs.  And, she noticed that, no matter what she was doing, they were always happy to see her.  And, if they weren't interested in how she was spending her time, they simply walked away and took a nap.

No judging.  No lectures.  No guilt trips.  No pressure to drink alcohol or chase boys.  They just wagged their tails and made a different choice.

And, the next time she sought them out, they were happy to see her all over again!

My daughter began to simply show her friends how happy she was to see them.  And, as their evenings wore on, she stayed true to her own ideas of fun, deciding for herself when it was time for her to move on to a new activity.  She quit trying to control others and to get them to see things her way.  And her lightheartedness and exuberance began to attract many more friends and opportunities her way.

Now, she's about to graduate from college and has more experience making friends than she ever thought possible.  And she still considers our dogs some of her best teachers.