I was born in some shrubbery lining a semi-urban landscape in one of the most crowded areas in the country.
For days it felt like my eyes were taped shut and all I desired was warmth. I slept a lot, and writhed around in a big ball with the rest of my siblings. Occasionally a gigantic monstrosity that I’ve recently learned is a “garbage truck” would lumber by and frighten us out of our wits. My mother’s ears would fly back and her eyes would get wild.
When we were old enough to realize there wasn’t much to eat aside from the vague mouse, we began to get thin and sickly. I was doing okay, I thought, until one day I found a bowl full of delicious food and began ravenously eating it. I didn’t realize I was inside a strange metal box that shut me in and trapped me there.
I was taken to the Humane Society where I shared a cage with my brother Richard. We didn’t like having limitations to our freedom, but we were happy to receive regular meals.
Soon after, my servant-guardian Jessica arrived desiring a cat who didn’t mind being held. I pretended to like it so I could go home with her. Suddenly my territory expanded like the big bang! I went from sharing a cage to three floors in a house with furniture made just for me.
No more harsh winters, no more struggling to survive in an urban wasteland.
I tell you this because maybe you’ve experienced some hard times, too. Maybe you wonder whether it’s possible for your life to change. I want you to know that all things are possible. Even when I was on the streets, life took care of me, just as it’s taking care of you right now.
Oxygen is filling your lungs, you probably have clothes to wear and enough to eat. You’ve had enough of whatever you needed to make it to this moment. Take a minute to feel how much abundance is in your life. Make a gratitude list of things you may have forgotten fill up your world: cups of tea, soft blankets, music, a bed to sleep in…
Keep going. I’ll be right here, counting my blessings.