It has rained several times already, but I missed all of them, except the very first one, on the evening of September 1st, when I sheltered the kitten. I had decided to foster it earlier that morning and spent the day accomodating it. When the rain came by the evening, I knew it was to be called Ghaith ~ غيث. I was too worked up about its wellbeing that I missed the petrichor, and the small little joys of autumn rain and autumn things, but we're only just starting, so not all is lost.
I fostered Ghaith for 12 days in total. I nursed it back to health, treated it for the ticks and fleas, cleaned it, gave it plenty of milk and food, and a lot of play time and cuddles. It kneeded on all of my body endlessly, most especially my head at night, during my sleep. It especially loved nesting inside my hair and in he nook of my neck. It kept me awake most nights through kisses and purrs. Thought I was rescuing it, it ended up rescuing me; cracked my heart open like it hasn't been for a long time. (That was pain for you, it does horrid things!)
It was my first time fostering a kitten, so young and so fragile, and a street one at that. I was very apprehensive, but we did good, both kitty and I. I needed its trust so I could do the work, it gave it to me, abundantly, and it paid off.
I thought I could change something in me that would make me enjoy the constant company of a cat - or a kitten, but I was wrong. Some things we can change, some things we can't. I kissed it and thanked it very dearly and gave it away, for it was time for it to go, and for the next phase of healing to start, for us both.
I was made differently, maybe naturally, and maybe through a series of traumatic events inside of me, still, there was no point trying to normalize myself, in order to start enjoying mundane things like others do - though I desperately needed it. While my nervous system was crying out for small enjoyable things, and small scale everything, simply thinking it or acting it out was just not going to do. I tried, I applied myself, I failed greatly.
While I don't exactly require the company of a cat to thrive, I do however require an abundance of heartfelt gestures from humans, the warmest embraces, the gentlest of touches, and the most genuine and endearing words ~ for mere survival, not just thriving.
That is not possible at the time being, so I will try to remain present with my body instead of failing it, like I'm so accustomed to doing. Try and listen to it as it tells me its stories, where it hurts, where it feels nice, where it needs attending to, where it's ready to serve me and my ambitious actionable plans when the time is right.
It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, in my heart, when Ghaith showed up, and how deeply it stared into my very soul that first night that I had it inside, in my bed, as I was crying away. It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, at my heart, when Yasmina showed up, and laughed and cried, with me and beside me, and at our embrace. It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, in my heart, as I think of the ever so subtle grace hidden in the smallest of acts, facts, faces, and situations. It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, in my heart, now as I listen to En Al Andalus on repeat, and stare at the clouded morning sky, and feel the chilled and humid breeze on my skin.
I had grown so very tired of the weight of the pain I was carrying, I had to put it down, all of it. All the pains inflicted on me, by me, through me. All the pains I was carrying that wasn't mine. I forgave myself, and then forgave all others. I reached out to everyone, I said sorry and thank you. I am not sure how much of it was felt, but at this stage of new level of apocalyptic realm, even if it reaches a tiny forgetful spot in their mind, I'm happy with that. This was the small little act I was capable of. That was what I felt called to do, and make.
Who cares about stupid employment and cash at this stage, I mean, fuck this existence as they had planned it, I refuse to abide by their rules till my last breath, and one way or another, I know that my acts, thoughts, and stands are going to be fruitful.
If it wasn't to love and grace, I would not have lasted so long on this plane reality. Though every fiber of my being gets exhausted, though I'm fatigued beyond words, though I am suffering from chronic pains, and though mind is beyond exasperated, I hold on to thin threads of hope.
I had spent days and nights recently thinking of absolutely every person I ever encountered, asked their forgiveness, thanked them, and sent them love.
There was no point in carrying on with life the way it has been lived so far, most especially the grieving period of last year, up until August 31st. I had prayed, numerously, and my prayer was answered, God indeed has helped me close that old chapter. There are new lessons to be learned now, new growth sprouts, new adventures of a different sort. But first, we had some cleaning up to do.
It isn't a one way communication anymore, this prayer thing, it's a dialogue now, we even joke sometimes, God and I. I recall I was writing in my prayer book a while back, towards the end of it I said: Giddy up Goddy! And then laughed and laughed...
Gotta filter this existence through the centre, it could never lead you astray ~ just make sure it's decluttered.
Thank you, for it all, seen and unseen, known and unknown.
More please,
Amen.
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جادَكَ الغيْثُ إذا الغيْثُ هَمى"
يا زَمانَ الوصْلِ بالأندَلُسِ
لمْ يكُنْ وصْلُكَ إلاّ حُلُما
"في الكَرَى أو خِلسَةَ المُخْتَلِسِ
