Life Lessons from a cat

I'm  not really quite sure why it was thought of as a good idea that I have a cat but when my sister called and told me the sad tale of the stray that wouldn't leave her house; I couldn't really say no.  Best and worst decision ever.  I now have the obligation of responsibility for another creature in my home.  I now have somebody that needs me every day.  I now have someone who throws her fur up my nose every night.  She's a bit of a diva and loves her canned kitty food along with sitting on any piece off furniture that suits her mood.  Especially my favorite chair.  If you sit in it, you now get a little look of disdain thrown your way. 
Despite our silent chair dispute, we get along quite well, too well.  It's only been three weeks and she understands what I often forget.  It's okay to love and let others love you.  Typically I'm okay with the loving something/someone else piece.  It's the letting others love that I struggle with.  She has forced herself into my world with kitty nudges and purring.  She is incessant and refuses to be ignored when I need some love.  It's a two way relationship.  I pet her, she nudges me, I scratch her, she gives me a tummy massage, etc., etc. And when I come home not realizing that I need some love, she's right at my heels waiting for me to sit or lay down so she can shower me with kitty kisses and her love rumble. 


The snuggling culprit in action as I type

Why is any of this significant you ask?  It's a pet, woohoo.  As a single adult I forget the importance of letting people love and take care of me.  Especially when I don't think I need it.  Day in and day out you do everything by yourself.  If you don't take care of something, it's not going to magically happen on it's own.  I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that I'm not the only one who forgets.  It is much too easy to go through life enjoying people, enjoying their company, and not really allowing them to see you as a vulnerable person, that state of being where one really needs someone else.  Vulnerability is a daunting word that in a society where we run in and out of church on Sunday, gather at meetings, rush to get home, go back and forth to work, and over schedule our lives, we don't give it an opportunity to even emerge because it takes time.  It takes time to intentionally be with people.  It takes time to sit and listen to a God who has the time to listen to our vulnerability.  It takes time to let others understand oneself.  It takes time to cultivate the trust of kitty kisses.   I don't know what the equivalent is in human terms.  Maybe it's hugs.