It's a beautiful morning. I'm sitting at my desk in front of my street-facing window, watching people take themselves to their daily obligations on foot, bike and car. Today, like other days, I'm seeing the bikes more than the others- especially the woman who just rode by carrying a plastic cake container in one hand and biking through the traffic with the other. I commend those who use their bikes to get around. Every time I see another cyclist there's a twinge inside me, like a small voice asking me why I don't bike more and leave my car at home. I feel the truth growing inside me and know that with time (and a warmer season) the small seeds of knowing will grow into action, and one day I shall be the one riding my bike, instead of simply watching.

Maybe cycling isn't your thing. But perhaps there's a hobby or sport, a religion or spiritual practice, a way of consciously eating, living, teaching or learning, a creative outlet. Whatever it may be, there's no denying that we're a species that is easily influenced. What others around us do, we observe, and small signals of intuition let us know if this is close to or far from our truth. Imagine a world with no influence- how stagnant and limiting that may be, knowing only what you know and living only as you've always lived.

In being myself, I feel an obligation to share myself. I don't get caught up in perfection- being enough of one thing or the other. Even a single attempt at something new will surely be heard by those closest to me. As a vegan, an advocate for conscious eating and its effects on the planet, our health and the animals, I don't strive to change people. As a believer in meditation, and living in the present, I don't judge people for living unconsciously. What other people do with their life is none of my business. But I DO have an obligation to share myself, to speak my truth and be open about who I am. If you tell me that being vegan is hard, I'll share my experience of how easy it's been for me. And if you tell me your pain, I'll remind you of the power of living in the present. 

My job is to be me. And your job is to be you. And in doing so, we'll release our seeds of our truth into the wind and they will land, and they will grow. We may not see where they grow- as they blow away from us their are no longer ours, but we can have faith that they will settle, take time, and eventually blossom. It's your obligation to speak your truth- not your truth from your head, they way we think people should be, but your truth from your heart- the way we know we are. For not speaking up for yourself and not sharing who you are is doing a great disservice to those around you. Your actions affect others, and by playing down who you really are, you're limiting the potential for growth in others. Who are you to decide that I may not like what you have to say? Who are you to limit me from feeling those small signals of intuition? It's our job to put our truth out there for all to see- you never know who's been waiting to hear exactly what you have to say, who's been waiting for your inspiration and influence, who's on the cusp of a dramatic change.

So I'll leave you with this: Don't be shy. Don't make yourself small. Don't worry about other people. Don't try to change people. Just be you, search for your truth, live your truth and share yourself with the world. Today.

Dear Kitty, Sweetie, Cleo, Stella,

You've gone through many names since I found you on Thursday afternoon at the lake. I was simply hiking out to get some space from the city, from people and myself. I sat cross legged on my blanket on the rocks when I heard your meow. You were in front of me asking me for help and I could see it right away. You weren't shy about your intentions. You wanted me to see you. You wanted me to fall in love with you and care for you. Luckily you asked. And luckily I did.

I wanted to take you home and keep you in the bathroom and feed you until the animal shelters would open the next day. I bought you food and litter, and set up a bed for you, but I couldn't stay away from you for long. I allowed you in my room and even let you sleep on my bed. You were so loving, warm and gentle. And oh so thankful. 

The next day after scanning you for a microchip, calling every shelter, foster owners, reporting you to the city, sharing your photo on Twitter and Facebook, browsing kijiji and posting an ad, I had not a single hint at whose cat you were or where you belonged. I also didn't know what do you with you and I couldn't keep you.

Enter Vet: Your verdict wasn't good. You were 5lbs, had a tick and fleas, you were senior, some of your teeth were rotten, and worst of all you were coming close to kidney failure with enlarged kidneys and severe dehydration.  In dollars that's well over $1000 plus ongoing care. The other option was $100 for euthanasia- what the shelters would likely have automatically done. I choked up as I agreed to an appointment for the following day, on the 3rd day of having you, when you, by law, would become my responsibility.

I wasn't feeling good about my decision so I let the people following your story know what was going to happen. Many people supported my choice which I appreciated. There were also a couple people who vocally rejected it. I am grateful for both views. You were a lovely being who asked for my help. And life inside you was still shining. You purred and meowed to greet me. You followed me around and jumped up on my bed to cuddle. You were alive. And I hadn't worked hard enough to save you yet. 

I cancelled your appointment for death and you lived another day. You came out for Thanksgiving at my parents' house with me and got some R&R, sleeping in the basement away from the dogs, kids and commotion. You purred and cuddled but were still sick and low in energy. I still didn't know what I would do with you. You needed the perfect home- an adult to nurture and care for you as you become sicker and older. Someone who can shelter you and keep you safe as you live out your days. Someone to give you hospice care like you deserved. 

I mulled your situation over many times through my days with you but there were no options that felt right. I waited for the answer. I knew it would come but I had no idea how. I had done everything possible that I could do, and I could only step back and let time reveal the best answer.

And it came. It came in the form of a neighbour's son's girlfriend visiting their home on Thanksgiving weekend. The compassionate woman/once vet-tech/lover and helper of older cats was a few doors down from my house- someone I had never met or knew anything about. When my mom shared with me the girlfriend's interest in cats we arranged that she should come over to giver her professional opinion about you. She came, we chatted, you let us poke and prod you once again, and she fell in love with your nature and your vulnerability. She wanted to take you home.

Her experience with senior cats means she knows to feed you high calorie food, with wet meals multiple times a day for hydration. She knows and is ready to administer IV fluids if you have an attack, and she knows how to assess your progress and will know when your kidneys have shut down. She'll let you sleep on her bed and she'll cuddle with you as you sleep. You'll be warm, and you'll be loved by a compassionate adult who has your best interest at heart.

I thank you kitty- Sweetie, Cleo, and now Stella. I thank you for showing me what it feels like to help a life along its journey. Thank you for choosing me and showing me trust, love and openness. Thank you for being strong and forthcoming about your needs. Thank you for reminding me of my inherent compassion, and allowing me the opportunity to hear my inner voice.

I hope you live a warm and comfortable life and continue on your path the way it was meant to be. 

Love,
Me