Vive l'difference

My cat caught a bird this morning. No matter how I bang on the window to distract him, send the dogs outside to blow his concentration, he still goes back to the feeder and stalks the birds. It matters not how high I place the feeders because his vertical jump seems to match the distance necessary to take out an unsuspecting chickadee. On one hand, I just hate that he does this. One of my favorite things about our property is watching the birds. And, I don’t like creation being injured or killed. On the other hand, this is how the cat was created. He may never change, not matter how hard I try to get him to stop taking out the birds. (Plus, he doesn’t seem to understand reason…) How does one hold the tension in that?

Sometimes it seems there simply isn’t a “right side” to take. In this case, there is definitely a side I want to take ~ one that I am more prone to take. Stop killing the birds! However, when I think of it, I can’t really expect him not to do so – it is part of the make-up of a cat. If I considered both sides, there is simply not a “right” or “wrong.” Rather, there is a preference involved. I prefer he not kill the birds. He prefers to kill them. If I look at each side of the situation, each has merit. Each has value to the holder.

I wonder how many times we are faced with situations in life could be considered “both/and” instead of “either/or.” How many times do both sides carry valid points? Maybe it is about a preference, one that differs from another. Sometimes it is about opinions or beliefs. What it things aren’t as black and white as we experience them? What it both sides of some issues hold merit? How would it change the way that we live if we considered the merit of each side of a situation instead of only looking at our own preference?

As far as me and my cat ~ there is a bit of a middle ground to our relationship. I continue to try hard to get him to stop killing the birds. If he gets obsessed with stalking I pull out the “cat bib” and put it around his neck which slows the stalking process. I send the dogs out in an attempt to distract him. His part seems to be to pull the cat bib off, watch for dogs and continue to stalk the birds. I feed him, and he sits on my lap. In this, we seem to get past our differences, and have a relationship. Neither of us is willing to bend on our “preference” however, it certainly does lowers anxiety. We kind of have a mutual understanding. The mutual understanding is this ~ I try to understand how nature works and try not to get bent out of shape about the parts of it I do not appreciate. He stalks the birds. Who knew that you could live in peace with someone so different from your self?

The dianthus rock

This weekend, I found myself sitting near the dianthus rock in the front yard. Really, it is just a huge rock that frames the massive amounts of colorful dianthus nearby. I sat there because it was easier to reach the weeds by being with the weeds, rather than towering over them. Sitting with the weeds actually gave me a view of under-the-plant canopy. I do not see this perspective much, as I tend to look at the plants, rather than getting down with them. When I am at plant level, I see the weeds, but I also see the toads, the new plants coming up, and blooms I hadn’t noticed before. Sitting at plant level also offers me surprises like the kitty jumping out from his napping place to pounce on the weed I am pulling and scaring the dickens out of me.

Being on the dianthus rock places me in a certain spot in our yard. If I look to the left, over the hostas and blooming daylilies, past the birdfeeder, through the hedge and the dust kicked up by a passing car, I see an outline of a window. On the other side of that window is the place my friend took her final breathe on Christmas morning. That was about 6 months ago. I miss her. I miss our talks and our times of not talking, simply sitting sharing silence. There was the laughter and tears shared over everything from our kids, politics, marriage, family, and that damn ALS, which invited both tears and laughter, sometimes at the same time. I saw a different perspective on politics when I was with my friend. I saw the health care issues differently, I heard a different voice about lobbying, and the responses of some of our politicians to the challenges of folks with ALS. I also was present for the stories of what it is like for a mom, a sister, and a wife, to live with a terminal illness. I miss the ritual of walking over, and spending sacred time with her.

Reminded of the blessing, helps me focus on how grand our times could be. Even the tears could be grand. Sitting with my friend also meant sitting with the impact of ALS on her life, and the lives of her family and friends. In a sense, sitting close to my friend, listening, experiencing, caring for each other offered both of us a plant-level view into each other’s lives. It takes time to stop, sit down and watch what is going on a different level. The things we might consider to be weeds will always be there, regardless of the canopy under which we look. However, I wonder if the weeds are just simply part of the landscape and with out them, the beauty of blooms might not seem quite so grand. Perhaps there is something about living with the things that we think are weeds in our lives that make us who we are and who we are becoming. Maybe it is not about worrying about the amount of weeds I think are in my life. Perhaps that is the wrong focus. Rather I might ask of my own self, how might I embrace that which feels like a weed, and learn from it rather than being so obsessed with getting rid of it. That sounds like a completely different type of conversation.