Morning Epiphany

This morning I was awakened to a loud purr coming out of a cold, wet nose sniffing in my ear. The almost painful motion of Molly massaging her kneed into my ribs. The sharp nip of her claws just slightly uncomfortable. Molly is not a touchy-feely cat. I tensed, waiting for the moment she remembered this and attacked me for being so uncouth. But she didn't. 

Tentatively, I reached up to scratch her between the ears. She responded, rubbing her head in my hand. Her purring loud and encouraging. But Molly can purr and attack and not blink an eye over the mixed message. So, gently and cautiously I rubbed on. Moments turned to minutes and soon she was like liquid in my hand. I smiled at the hitched noise of her love, grumbling in her purr box.

While this kitty-love-fest was occuring in the early morning hours I took the time to really think about what this means.

Molly can be gruff, aloof and sometimes downright nasty. But this morning she was asking for love. Reaching out to me when I'm most vunerable. I redoubled my rubbing efforts, thinking she's surely changed! My lovable kitten is back.

I wondered how many people I know that I have lost relationships with, taking their gruffness personally. Perhaps, all they needed was to see me vunerable, see that I too am human, that I have the same problems and give them love and kindness when they open themselves up to me in the smallest of ways instead of pushing them aside remembering the times when they were rude or mean to me. Using their past behaivor as punishment instead of forgiving and loving in the moment. Scratching under her chin I thought, "Perhaps, the world would be such a better place if we could all learn this huge lesson of forgiveness."

And then I stroked my hand down her body and to her tail and realized it wasn't Molly at all. It was Hiro.

Perhaps, it's a lesson well learned anyway.