Cattitudes

Wooly Bully was actually a cat.

Flapjack, Applesauce, Mustang Sally, Hujan ("rain" in Bahasa Indonesia), Peter, and Simon are our cats. Four of them are known more commonly by their nicknames Jack, Saucy, Sally, and Johnny, Each one of these babies is a rescue. Each one of them came from the street...3 of them from the literal middle of the road (apparently that's a good place to ditch kittens when there are too many around the house).

Jack and Sally

While six is a lot of cats, I am happy to report that I know quite a few people who have more than we do, so I take some solace in that. The biggest thing that makes me feel not-so-bad
about the number of cats we have is the feeling that their lives are better now - safer, happier, and, I would also say that they know they have a good family,

Our cats are very Indonesian (or Javanese, maybe) and they are very serious about their "together time" (bersama-sama). It may take a little time for them to meet each other and get used to each other, but that phase usually
passes quickly and they become one family.

Jack is the big daddy of the family - when Saucy ran to Tatok as a small kitten almost 2 years ago, an older Jack was not far behind. He had been taking care of Saucy and was very protective of her. He still is. But more than that, it seems to be Jack's nature to be that way. One might think that Saucy would be a spoiled princess because she doesn't remember those hard times. She's not, though. She's shared the love she was given with countless abandoned kittens who've passed through our lives. She shares the love that she's received. I'm biased about these babies - I've never seen anything like it in my life.

Mustang Sally

 And then along comes Sally. Mustang Sally, girl you got to slow that Mustang down! We had been taking care of two kittens abandoned by a neighbor when one suddenly disappeared. After combing the enclosed and walled-in neighborhood, we couldn't find her. I then allowed her sister, Tina, into the house so that she wouldn't be alone outside. A couple of weeks later, I awoke at 3 am to the cries of a kitten outside. Ever hopeful, I jumped up and ran outside to see if Sophia had returned. It was not Sophia, but a tiny kitten under a car across the street. With 3 kitten-cats inside, I didn't want any more, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the one under the car, either. Why was she screaming so?

Sally and Johnny

I watched from across the street as the trash men came - immediately she ran out and began to follow them on their rounds. Afraid that she would be scooped up and thrown in the trash trailer, I approached. Sure enough she was scooped up - and then handed directly to me. "Mau dia?" "Do you want her?" the man asked. Without thinking, I took her and we went inside. We sat in a chair together and she voraciously ran around my lap and intermittently snuggled in my neck. So full of energy and life. Mustang Sally had arrived. I didn't want to put her down with the others even though for some reason, she wasn't dirty or stinky. I got the small cage I use for found kittens and put her in with some soft food and a blanket. I let her sleep in my room so that we'd both have a little peace. Later, I'd introduce her to the others.

Sally was welcomed into the clowder of cats and they all got along well. Sadly, Tina fell sick with a respiratory illness and we lost her. About that same time, we had another kitten on the terrace that had been dropped in the middle of the street. Eventually, he too would join the group and they would all live happily. 

Hujan ("Johnny")

Jack, Sally, Johnny, Saucy

I was determined not to have any more kitten-cats in the house. If I had to wear earplugs and blindfolds when out and about, I'd do it, but NO MORE CATS.

And then came Peter and Simon on Christmas Eve. 

Coming home from church activities on Christmas Eve, there in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere were two kittens huddled into a mass that looked like a crumpled paper bag. When I got off the motorcycle, they ran right up to me and again without thinking, I just scooped them up.

Peter and Simon lived on the terrace for three months. Every morning at 6am or earlier, I woke up to feed them and to free them from their cage. They'd stay in the yard and play, but as time passed, they began to venture further and further away. Luckily, however, they'd always come when I called them. Our activities have us out of the house, and often it can be for four hours or more. After a trip to the vet, I decided to let them join the family inside. Johnny was overjoyed - he wasn't the baby anymore!

Sally, Mustang Sally, wasn't very happy about it, but I thought she'd come around.

Sally, Jack, and Saucy (before)

Saucy had accepted Johnny and Sally as babies - they cuddle with her and relish their esteemed positions. Jack oversees the clowder like a humble king. 

Jack, Johnny, Saucy

I had begun to notice, however, even before I let the little ones into the house, that Sally is kind of pushy. Sally, actually, might be a kind of cat bully.

She's sweet and she always apologetically looks at me when she pushes the limits, but with Peter and Simon, she was having a harder time. 

She often growls and them and even takes a swipe at their little faces with gusto.

How could she act like this when she was raised with nothing but kindness?

Of course, if you're an American and reading this you're probably thinking "Charlotte, cats don't get along - they're jealous!" To be honest, I always thought that too, but that hasn't been my experience here.

Yes, six cats is a lot - six cats are probably too many in most contexts, but as long as they can be healthy, happy, and well-fed, I don't know what else to do.

And now back to Sally.

What should be done with one who doesn't want to consistently get along and play nice with others? How do we treat those who frequently and unpredictably lash out at others? How do we accommodate them?

It's funny how when we're talking about a cat, an animal, it may be easy to think that we can just "get rid of it". Give it away, put it outside, or even take it into the country and let it go.


But what do we do when people are like that?

"Oh, that's just how she is - you have to be patient"

"He's just a man and you know they act like that"

"He's your father - you have to respect him"

"You need to be patient and understand that they don't have the same back ground as you - they're less educated and from the country"

"She brought you into this world - it's her right"

My cats are among the closest relations I have here. Yes, I'm blessed to have a small group of friends that I enjoy and feel I can trust, but these cats - well, they're like family,

When I see a cat - whether it's Johnny, Peter, or Simon - or even Saucy! - recoil in response to a simple gaze from Sally, I remember a term from Psychology class long ago.

Mental health professionals call that feeling "walking on eggshells" and it's used when describing life with a person who is emotionally or physically abusive, and who may even have what is called "borderline personality disorder".

Is Sally's behavior tormenting the cats who DO know how to get along and play nice? If I lived with a person who made others in the house feel scared and nervous like that, what would I do?

A comforting thing is that the difference between a human and a cat means that we can talk to people who act like that - we can reason with them. We can share how their behavior affects others, we can ask them to be considerate, to have compassion, to change.

Seems easy, doesn't it? But can you imagine a child asking a parent to calm down and not be scary? How about a wife to a man who uses her face as a punching bag? How about a husband who's scarred by rants of worthlessness and endless mind games?

Even if we are able overcome the power distance and to communicate the need for change, change isn't as easy as being asked - they have to want to change and nothing we say can MAKE them "be nice". In fact, when we're talking with abusive people about their behavior, many of them show the same kind of understanding and compassion that is mostly expected from an animal. Even a house cat.

Mustang Sally

And now I'm back to Sally.

Sally hasn't been fixed yet and her good days and good times are greater than her lashing-out times. She and Saucy will be fixed next week and I'll see if that makes her act nicer to the others. If she still walks around the house making the others afraid or if they run under the sofa when they see her approach, I'll have to do something.

I don't like bullies and I don't believe that a home should be poisoned by one who doesn't, or can't, realize the needs of others to feel safe and loved. Sally is loved and cared for just like the others, but a happy home is only as happy as those in it. Cowering in fear or walking on eggshells isn't the way for anybody to live, cat or human.

Where Talk is Cheap, Honesty Comes at a Premium

...or as a former employer often, often said "Ooooh - that kind of development is cost prohibitive. We can't do that." He meant that the cost outweighs the benefit and therefore, couldn't reasonably be done, but what he really meant was that he didn't place a value on whatever he deemed "cost prohibitive". That excuse never flew with me because the money he wasted on trifling things would have more than covered those deemed "cost prohibitive".

In short, there's no way to hide your values. Be prepared to live with them or don't have them at all.

Today marks the 5th year that I have been in Indonesia. I arrived in the morning on January 20 after 3 days of travel time; two layovers of 11.5 hours lengthened the trip, but on the first, I was able to wander around Frankfurt, Germany's historic district and that was a good thing.

I've been trying to think of what to say about these 5 years for a while and I honestly don't know. There's too much and I constantly sift out anything remotely negative.

Growing up in the South, there was never a shortage of "outsiders" complaining about it. "Why is everything closed on Sunday??" "You don't have any good music here" "Why are there no bagels anywhere?" "Why do you talk like that?" "None of you people are really educated..." "The South is so backwards"

In addition to fighting off self-loathing and questioning the validity of such negativity, the easiest thing to do was to say "Well, if you don't like it, leave." "The road that brought you will take you back." "Don't let the screen door hit you where the good Lord split you"

As soon as I was old enough and able, I returned to the city of my birth to reclaim "my territory", but even there the questions to determine the validity of such came in the loaded question "where'd you go to high school?"

It would be easy, then, to say that I've never really felt like a had a place, so I don't feel much more out of place here than anywhere, but one thing's for sure: life just ain't the same when you can't just blend into the crowd. I have a brand new awareness for what it means to stand out based on skin color alone. Anybody who doesn't think that microaggressions and assumptions deny human dignity has never experienced it - it doesn't have to be mean, it's just that nothing needs to be discussed or understood because everybody already knows (and by that I mean they THINK they know)

What happens in the US happens all over the world, I'm sure. It's the same, but different. If I go on about that any longer I'll be writing a chapter of the book I should write and not just a blog post, so I'll leave it at that.

Over the past 5 years, I've been faced with opportunities and challenges to live my faith, test my values, and remember who I am.

My five year reflection is as follows:

- living in accord with values is not easy
- nothing makes you know who you are faster than knowing who you're not
- no matter where you go, there you are

The American values of hard work, perseverance, freedom, independence, and honesty may very well be a recipe for disaster outside the American context, but I guess I'll find that out when the time comes. Right now, I'll just keep on keeping on in faith and with love, as best I can.

There's a city in my mind

Come on and take that ride

It's all right

Road to Nowhere -  Talking Heads

Christmas. The End of "Should"

Perhaps it's a sad thing that the strongest lesson I've learned over the past five years isn't anything pretty or shiny - it's rather ugly, but I surely am thankful to have received it.

I want to talk about blame. I want to talk about punishment. I want to talk about people getting what they deserve.

...BUT wait...this is Christmas, you say. Why are you going to talk about that depressing stuff again, Charlotte?

Because Christmas - the birth of our Savior - ended that cycle. Let me take that back - it was SUPPOSED to end that cycle; the cycle of scapegoating, blame, and punishment.

Let's think for a second.

Mary SHOULD have been stoned, you think? She was a young, unmarried, woman...it took some angels and a BIG star to get people to realize that she wasn't just pregnant with any ol' baby, but a savior. I want to know why she didn't get "what she deserved" sooner....how did that happen? Is that why she was so far from home and had to journey back to register? Did she have to go away so that no one would know?

What about Joseph? He SHOULD have left her high and dry - pregnant with a baby he didn't make...he SHOULD have left her.

But he didn't.

And the shepherds? The lowest of the low on the social rung? Why were they the first to know? Surely a more important person SHOULD have known first, but God chose the humble shepherds.

Christmas is a time to celebrate the birth of our Savior who turned the world of SHOULD on its nose. A King, born in a stable? He SHOULD have been born somewhere clean, warm, and surrounded by family - not with strangers in an animal enclosure...

All of those people with "no room in the inn", they SHOULD have made room for a young family with a baby on the absolute way.

God sent His Son into a world to turn it over - to rock it and make people remember that what SHOULD be isn't always the way that it IS.

Peace on earth is about remembering that we all live in the grace of God. There's no differentiation between who SHOULD be blessed and who SHOULD not - God loves His children. Each and every one. Christmas is a time to free the captives, feed the poor, and be redeemed.

If we can't let go of the desire to punish and dole out the treatment that people SHOULD get, then maybe we're not ready to celebrate the birth of a Savior who came not to condemn the world, but to save it.

Chillin' with the Gusdurians

"Gitu aja kok repot" is one of the most popular quotes from Abdurrahman Wahid, President of Indonesia from 1999 until 2001. I've heard it translated as "take it easy", but I've also seen it as "don't sweat it". I prefer the latter because it seems that in English, the closest things that reflect the intention is "Don't get your panties in a wad!" or maybe even "chill out". While those two are not particularly presidential, the English equivalent of  "don't sweat it" seems fine to me.

Affectionately known as Gus Dur, the former president was an outspoken advocate for peace and pluralism. He was a respected religious leader and scholar, humorist and humanitarian. He wrote hundreds of essays on topics ranging from the mundane, day-to-day happenings in pop culture to complex reflections on international affairs and democracy.

Gus Dur passed away in 2009, but his spirit lives on in the many intellectuals, students and scholars, as well as everyday people, who  continue to reflect on his ideas and philosophy.

One such group is the Gusdurians. The Gusdurians are a national body with local chapters and international affiliates who focus on nine, primary points of Gus Dur's thinking. These nine points are: the unity of God, humanitarianism, justice, egalitarianism, liberation, brotherhood, simplicity, noble acts/chivalry (this one is harder to translate as the Indonesian word, keksatriaan, refers to the qualities expected of a knight), and finally, local/traditional wisdom.

Gusdurians do not worship Gus Dur, but rather consider and apply his thinking to everyday life; especially in how to best serve our communities, as well as each other, acting from the foundations of our own respective religions. It is a value-based community composed primarily of students, but also a goodly portion of adults, that reflects respectful scholarship, community engagement, and empowerment, and most of all, friendship and brotherhood (and sisterhood!)  in a real-life example of pluralism and unity.

It is my honor and happiness to be a part of the Gusdurian community of Malang, Garuda, as we all seek to learn, grow, and serve together in doing what we can where we are to make the world a better place.

Over the past year, we have participated in multiple interfaith peace-building events ranging from workshops and informal group discussions to musical performances and advocacy initiatives that reflect the principles of the Gusdurians.

Gusdurians Malang leads the way by not only talking about peace, but living it, as well.

Selling Ourselves Short

I saw this posted this on Facebook the other day.

The funny thing is, my initial reaction was to giggle and to "like" it, but mere seconds later, I realized what a horrible message this post promotes.

The first horrible message is the word "whore" itself. Does it mean somebody who charges for sexual services? Does it mean a "loose woman" with no morals who "slept around"? Who, exactly, was really a whore in HIGH SCHOOL? As a middle-aged adult, I know that regardless of how mature and worldly high school kids think they are, they are CHILDREN; possibly misguided, abused, confused, hurting, neglected - or maybe they're just teenagers!. We don't know what could possess an adult to consider a child a whore, but the idea that it's even possible to slap such an ugly label on a child is more than a bit unsettling to me.

The following reflection is based on three main points. The first is that kids in high school are children. The second is the idea that "damaged" people have no right to find solace in the love of Christ the Lord. The last is a plea for us to consider how we choose to operate in this world.

First of all, kids in high school are children. Older children, yes, but all the same children who are trying to find their place in a world that is often confusing, full of contradictions, and rife with hormonal changes and cellular growth. It is not only cruel to label a human being with such inescapable baggage, but it does absolutely nothing to promote healthy attitudes towards girls and women. For an adult to reflect on high school days and think for a moment that a teen-aged child was actually a whore speaks less about the "whore" and more to a backwards perspective that hurts women. Such a meme shouts judgement in support of a patriarchal worldview that seeks to keep those of the female persuasion in the "right place". Growing up is hard for everybody and it's especially hard for girls who are exposed, on a regular basis, to conflicting ideas about what it means to be a female. Whore? Hardly. Please think again.

As an adult who suffered through myriad instances of name-calling, shaming, and out right detestation from my peers during the high school years (and even before), I know that the only thing that got me through so many days of pain was my faith in God. How dare the blessings and grace of our Lord and Savior be denied to those who need it most! As an adult, I've known many women who also suffered through bad reputations as children/teenagers. One of the commonalities we all share is related to the notion of Love; love we lacked, love we didn't know how to manage, love that hurt, love that didn't seem like love at all, but we were told it was,.. Most of us were hurting. Most of us, knowingly or not, contributed to the arsenal of stones that would be used against us - we can see in this meme that it's not only bad to be a whore, but it's bad to repent, too - should we be thrown away? Are we that damaged and useless? I believe not. Love is a very powerful force. How can we expect children, teenagers particularly, to deftly manage the weight of such a powerful and life changing gift? Of course the people who were once labeled as "whores" post Bible verses now - they (we) know the taste of the water Christ offered at the well.  We know who saved our lives. We know the debt we owe. Do you?

Finally, as adults we can choose how we'll operate in this world. We can choose whether we want to spend our days hurting people or loving people. Hopefully as adults. we know that there are ways of being that cause pain, just as we know there are ways that can lessen it. Which path do we choose to take?

I'm going to close with a story.

One evening I was out with a friend who, like me, has a colorful past. She and I both have chosen the path we'll tread as adults and we try, with all of our human capabilities, to live with integrity - even in the face of our very human failings and struggles.

We had gone to a small cafe and chatted about our day when my attention directly shifted onto two very average, and even homely, looking young women. They were in their early twenties, at best.

They were chatting with a couple of "bule" (white foreigners) who happened to be men. She asked me if I thought those girls were pretty and wondered aloud why two "bule" like that would take an interest in them.

The phenomenon of local Indonesian girls and women actively seeking out "bule" men for the opportunity to improve their lot in life is a subject of regular contextual reflection.

The young women were dressed as if they had stepped out of a Salvation Army phone center - they weren't dressed the part to be out looking for men. My interest was piqued and from this point on, I paid attention.

What I witnessed was a business exchange. I saw their "pimp", I watched the deal go down, and I've watched enough TV to know what had transpired. I had never seen such a thing in "real life" and I was shamefully excited, I must admit - I'd never seen it before! It DOES happen! Moments later the entourage was no longer there.

Later that night I saw the same young women again; different place, different pairings. One of them was dangerously drunk (or something), so I reached out to them; being drunk to the point of incoherence is not a good thing to be in a crowded dance club. I talked to them as if they were "normal" women. I didn't treat them like low-grade whores. I interacted with them like the sisters they were.

If they were in their early twenties, that would be dreamy, but it now appeared that the very drunk one may have been all of 18 years old,

My friend asked me how I could speak to "women like that". I asked her how many friendly faces did she think those young women experienced on a daily basis, especially from other women? We reflected on our own lives and thought again, together.

As with before, the young women were once again gone.

I have no doubt that those two young women had little to no say in their situation. I am sure that their options in life were limited and that their vulnerability was exploited. I could not and cannot save them, but I can show them kindness and treat them with love and respect. That's what we are called to do as Christians.

When we throw the word "whore" around, we contribute to a system of values that dehumanizes women and perpetuates a cycle of pain that only a privileged few can escape, and moreover, we disrespect and demonize those among us who are trapped in lifestyles in which they have little to no agency.

Every time I see posts about the evils of sex trafficking I think on those two young women. They are not "whores".

Choose your words wisely, but importantly, choose your path wisely. How do YOU want to operate in this world?

Will you operate with love or with damnation? Sometimes in life it feels that we have few options, but we can ALWAYS choose that.

The Love You Save, Joe Tex

I've been pushed around

I've been lost and found

I've been given til sundown 

To get out of town

I've been taken outside

And I've been brutalized

And I've had to always be the one to smile and apologize

But I ain't never

In my life before

Seen so many love affairs

Go wrong as I do today

I want you to STOP 

And find out what's wrong

Get it right

Or just leave love alone

Because the love you save today

Maybe will be your own

Reflections of a Trainwreck

Last night I watched "Trainwreck", Amy Schumer's new movie, as I do just about every movie; on a laptop.

When I first saw the movie on the shelf at the store, I thought "Yay! This'll be funny!" And then I remember.

Sometimes it seems that's just the way it is; being a woman, the unending pain of what is harmfully dubbed "Daddy issues", and the societal smack down for daring to be anything other than what you're "supposed to be". Put on your big girl panties and deal.

What would have been a fun movie (more on that later) is yet another opportunity to reflect, to remember, and hopefully, to grow.

The movie wasn't as funny as I had hoped, I, like many women, either know or have been someone very similar to Amy.

While it was amusing to see the proverbial tables turned and a woman playing the role of the user, the exploiter, and the "emotionally unavailable", I just couldn't bring myself to laugh as often as I wanted.

Those characteristics don't represent who the character of Amy is as a person, but rather they represent the ways that she deals with how she thinks the world works. They are responses by her damaged soul. There is a difference.

As I washed clothes this morning, I found myself thinking about the movie. Amy's character reflects the values of her father and unfortunately, we only see pieces of how dangerous that can be for a woman. Waking up far away from home in a stranger's house to endure the walk of shame in club clothes isn't really funny.

Being late to work due to said incident isn't really funny, either.

In real life, the copious amounts of alcohol that she drank would cause some problems - at some point, anyway - what we can do when we're young changes as we get older, especially drinking everybody except ourselves under the table. Recovery times change.

In short, I couldn't laugh as much as I wanted because I've been, or I know, women like Amy.

Just like in the movie, though, most of us manage to move on. We can straighten out, learn our lessons, and have productive lives. Or not.

In the movie, Amy's boyfriend is the recipient of a prestigious award. She is there to support him and is fully aware of how important that event is to him. During his acceptance speech, she receives texts and calls from her megalomaniac boss. "PICK UP THIS PHONE NOW OR YOU'RE FIRED"

She removes herself from the room to take the call, hurts her boyfriend Aaron not once, but twice as she stayed out even longer to smoke a joint in the window.

Trainwreck.

Not only would I have not taken the call, but I wouldn't have had my phone on. I would have been fired.

You see, the thing about trainwrecks is that anything on the tracks is fair game - it was the job or it was Aaron, but it was going to be something. There's no wreck if nothing is not destroyed. It will always be something.

SPOILER ALERT - DON'T READ PAST HERE IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE FILM



I wish I could have been happier that she and Aaron were able to reconcile at the end, but I couldn't. I was happy for them, I mean, but does Aaron really deserve to deal with all that?

Recovery takes time and as much as we think that loving someone will "fix everything", it doesn't. Issues like Amy's character has don't just change overnight. We seem to get so happy when the trainwreck or the excuse me, "f**k up", finds someone who makes them see the need to change.

Change isn't easy or fast and what about the person on the receiving end? What about Aaron?

Do we think that male "f**ck ups" can just change? They don't, so why should a female trainwreck?

Maybe there's nothing in the movie to lead us to believe that she will change, but the fact that she wants to try is supposed to be enough. I do find comfort in their mutual affirmation at the end that they WANT to make it work and that they are willing to make the effort. That's huge, but...

I don't think it's enough. There are too many Aarons (or Avas) in the world that naively traipse into relationships with trainwrecks or "f**k ups" and believe that they'll just change.

Maybe they can change, but the idea that lifelong programming can be changed by the love of another person is dangerous. It's hurt countless women and now, showing that women can be the same, we risk not only spreading a disease of naivety that feeds toxic relationships, but also unconsciously treating it as normal.

Trainwreck.

I appreciate the film and I appreciate the female characters. It's important to see women in roles that are typically given to men. Yay! Women can be "f**ck ups" too!

I guess I just expected more. Unfortunately, it's the same ol' trope turned into a comedy. See, sisters, we can be the same! Yes, indeed, we ARE the same. And that shouldn't be something to laugh about.

When I was in my early twenties and found myself reeling from being on the receiving end of yet another male "f**k up", I played with the idea of being the same, but I had an epiphany. The people, male and female, who are hurt by trainwrecks and "f**k ups" don't deserve it. The people who DO deserve it can't be hurt, so how do we want to proceed? By hurting people (Aaron) who don't deserve it, or trying to make that change?

I don't wish for Amy's character to be a martyr, particularly, but our society has GOT to move past the tit-for-tat fixes of the goose and gander. It's not good for the goose, and it's not good for the gander.

It's the 21st century and it's time for a change. Amy's character, like the myriad male characters before her, has issues. And those don't just go away when a nice person who deserves love, respect, and honesty comes along to save the day. It just doesn't work that way and we need to stop thinking that it does.

It hurts everybody - trainwrecks, "f**k ups", and anything that happens to be on the track.

And that's not really funny.

The Cat's Meow

This morning while preparing food for one of my kitties who isn't feeling well and worrying about another one who seems to be less active of late, I caught myself thinking "if they could all just be HEALTHY at the same time!"


Wouldn't that just be wonderful if everything in our lives could be perfect? We would all have jobs that paid us enough to have healthy, perfect lives - enough food, able to afford health care (for ourselves and loved ones), safe houses and neighborhoods free from industrial waste or fumes.

A perfect life of being surrounded by people who truly love and care about your well-being in a world appreciated for its natural magnificence and free from exploitation and ruin.

A world in which peace is the rule, not the exception - people are kind and understanding. An education would include the building up of our very best natures - empathy, compassion, and the knowledge necessary to make everything better - perfect - less uncomfortable and hard with no one left out.

What if we could have the most fashionable clothes, the nicest cars, belong to the best clubs - would that be perfect?

I don't think there's anything wrong, particularly, with striving for excellence - for perfection; but life is not perfect.

In pieces and fragments, we can find some semblance of what may seem perfect, but true perfection will always elude us.

Life is not perfect - there is injustice, sickness, greed, and tragedy.

Shall we spend our days lamenting what is not, indeed, perfect or do we focus on what we can do, the things that are in our control?

To love.
To listen.
To try.

This morning as I thought about my cats, I remembered that I had choices. I didn't have to take any of them in. I could have left them in the street where they began - alone and tiny. It is very likely that they wouldn't be around had that happened, but I had the choice.

I chose to try. I chose to love. And that's not always easy.

How do we know whether to try or to turn away?

I guess there's no easy answer for that, but once we make the decision, we have to do our best.

No, life isn't perfect, but if we try and listen, we may find that life can be full and rich, especially when we love as best we can.

The cat's meow? It's an old American idiom and it means something wonderful, something awesome, maybe something fashionable. What a special realization that even though life isn't perfect, I can still choose how to behave in this world! Sometimes it just takes a gentle reminder that while life isn't perfect, when we do what we can with love, even the imperfections can be a blessing. The cat's meow.