I’ve lived in my current neighborhood for 5 years. It’s the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere in my entire adult life. I started off in one house and the landlord I was renting from let it go in to foreclosure. That’s a typical story for many within the past several years. But just as I was about to freak out, the place directly across the street opened up.
So, I moved, but just across the street. The new place was bigger and nicer and came complete with a huge kitchen, beautiful back yard and a stray cat.
I’m no stranger to stray cats. They all have my card and pass it around at will. In my head, they sound like this.
“Pssst, hey cat. (Stray cats sound like mobsters from the Sopranos for some reason to me.) You should want a nice hot meal? I know a gal. She lives over there. Now,fuggedaboutit, Go meow under her window and she will run to get your food.”
So he does. I call him Remy. I’ve fed this cat for over 2 years now. He’s a very scary looking cat. Like something out of a Stephen King novel. He’s quite large and a dull solid gray color with dark yellow eyes. I’ve thought he was a goner on more than one occasion. It’s not easy living in our “hood”. It comes complete with bobcats and panthers. But Remy is still standing.
I’ve never once been able to touch him. He’s just wild. And when he shows up under my window in the morning and I make my way downstairs to feed him he cautiously watches as I set the bowl of food before him. He skittishly acts like he’s going to bolt at any moment in the event I pull out a gun. Then he hisses at me for good measure to let me know he’s gonna eat the food, but he’s NOT GONNA LIKE IT!
It’s just what we do. He acts like I’m going to murder him and I keep feeding him. Day after day after day.
One time, I was even sitting quietly on my couch reading and I guess he didn’t know I was there. I had the back door open so my regular two goofball, ginger cats could go outside. Remy sneaked in the house and took part in the all you can eat cat buffet in my kitchen. Then he proceeded to eat the piece of cheesecake left over from the night before that was still sitting on the counter.
Doesn’t he know what that will do to his thighs?
But after all this time I realized something. Remy could have a home if he wanted. He could sleep in a bed. He could be warm in the winter, which it’s Florida so maybe outside is better. But Remy limits himself.
Aren’t we all like that a little? We immediately assume all we want is not for us to have. Maybe we don’t think we deserve it. Maybe we just don’t want to ask for it. But God has so much for our lives. It’s there for the taking. But we don’t take it. We think we are resolved to sneaking around for our bare necessities. My friend the life coach calls it “scarcity thinking”.
I think that when we start believing we are worthy of abundance is when we will receive it.
Oh sure it’s easy to say, but why is it so damned hard to do? Our lives are plugged in to the ultimate source but we expect the well to completely run dry at every moment.
This applies to more than just finances and cat chow. I think it’s true in relationships. We hang on to something we may love but it’s just not enough of what we truly desire not to mention all we truly need. So we take what we can get because we assume if we let go, there will be nothing else for us.
Expect the best. Walk in the house like you own it. Have some Filet Mignon. Go to the big bed and curl up in the sunshine coming through the window. The best is reserved for you. And there’s plenty of it. Someone else isn’t taking yours from you. Too many people think that way especially the ones I’ve noticed in the conservative writing business over the past couple of years. They can’t be nice and help you because they assume it means less for them. That’s not true. It sows even more abundance.
There’s no need to stay outside in the semi-cold any longer. You don’t have to keep your walls up and continue hissing at the world.
Abundance, not to mention lots of purring, awaits.