Live Love
Daniel
Caron, MS,
CAGS
Sometimes
life's
gifts show
up at our
doors
disguised
as
burdens.
This was
my
experience
on October
15 while
driving
back from
facilitating
a workshop
in
southern
West
Virginia.
I was
scheduled
to
facilitate
another
day long
workshop
in
Columbus
the
following
morning
and needed
to make
the four
hour drive
to
Columbus,
stay
overnight
and be
ready for
a 9:00 AM
start.
The drive
seemed to
take
forever on
the rainy,
fall day
so I
frequently
stopped to
stretch,
get
something
to drink
and do
anything
to ward
off the
unrelenting
fatigue.
Arriving
at the
motel at
10:00 PM I
could not
wait to
climb
between
the warm
sheets and
fall
asleep.
That plan
was just
not in the
cards for
me.
Carrying
my bag to
the room I
heard
crying
sounds
coming
from
behind the
parking
lot at the
chain link
fence.
Investigating
the sound
took me to
the edge
of the
parking
lot where
I
discovered
a gray,
tiger-striped
kitten
stuck in
the fence
up to its
shoulders.
He was
unable to
move
forward or
backward
to free
himself
from his
chain link
prison.
Soaking
wet and
covered
with mud,
the
kitten's
cries
seemed to
fade with
my
approach.
A quick
walk to
the
motel's
office and
I was
standing
ready with
wire
cutters
and the
help of
the
manager.
After
cutting
the fence
and
freeing
the kitten
I turned
toward my
room
feeling my
work was
finally
done for
the day.
The kitten
had other
ideas and
ran
between my
legs,
tripping
me, as I
walked to
my room. I
turned to
the motel
manager
with a
look
begging
for more
assistance.
He smiled,
shrugged
his
shoulders
and said
"There's
always the
Humane
Society."
"Fat
chance on
a Friday
night at
this hour"
I thought.
There were
no houses
anywhere
in the
area and
the motel
was just
yards from
the
highway.
The kitten
purred
like a
noisy fan
when I
picked him
up and
took him
into my
room.
Setting
him down I
then
called my
wife,
Stacy, who
laughed as
I related
the events
of my
restful,
Friday
evening.
"I'm tired
and I have
an all day
program
tomorrow.
I really
don't need
this right
now." I
told her.
"Apparently
he needs
you more
than you
need him."
Stacy
responded.
That
sentiment
took me by
surprise.
We both
love
animals
but our
home is
tiny and
we already
have four
cats. We
did not
need one
more.
Hanging up
the phone
and
shutting
the kitten
in the
bathroom I
left the
room and
headed for
the
nearest
24-hour
department
store. An
hour later
I walked
back into
the motel
room with
a pet
carrier,
cat food,
litter-box,
litter and
food dish
in tow.
That night
I had
little
rest with
the kitten
bouncing
around the
bed.
Saturday
morning
the
workshop
host found
me a quiet
room for
the
kitten's
carrier.
The
workshop
was
successful
despite my
zombie-like
demeanor.
Several of
the
participants
spent
their
breaks
keeping
the kitten
company.
For the
entire
two-hour
drive home
from the
workshop,
the kitten
sat in my
lap,
gently
pawing my
face
whenever
he woke
from his
catnaps.
In my
workshops
on
relationship
development
I remind
participants
that the
way I
touch the
world
(what I
call,
Original
Play) is
not about
meeting my
needs or
doing
"my
thing."
Instead
this
connection
is always
about
meeting
the needs
of the
other
being
first.
Sometimes
I need to
be
reminded
that life
is more
than just
talking
the talk.
True
learning
comes in
the
practice
of walking
the walk.
I wonder
what made
the little
kitten's
path cross
mine that
night to
remind me
of this
important
lesson.
Once home
Stacy and
I
introduced
the new
kitten,
now named
Trapper,
to the
other four
cats in
our home.
There was
a lot of
hissing
and
snarling
whenever
Trapper
approached
any of the
other
cats.
Fortunately
he was too
young to
be
deterred
from
making new
friends
and kept
at it
until all
of the
cats
accepted
him as
family.
Fifteen
days later
on
election
night I
stayed up
to watch
the
results of
the
Presidential
race. I do
not
typically
follow
political
contests.
Given the
ongoing
wars in
Iraq and
Afghanistan,
the slow
economy
and
staggering
national
deficit,
my
concerns
for new
and
peaceful
leadership
kept me
glued to
the
television
until 1:00
AM
election
morning,
when
things
appeared
as if they
would not
be
changing.
Feeling
disheartened
by the
election
and a
little
frustrated
I
discouragingly
wondered
how our
nation
would find
its way
out of so
many
messes.
Walking to
bed I
glanced
over to
the
rocking
chair to
discover
Trapper
lying
across the
seat
asleep and
in a
comfortable
embrace
with
Alley, one
of the
other cats
asleep on
top of
him.
"What do
they know
that I am
missing?"
I
wondered.
Then I
noticed
the pillow
behind
both cats
that read
'LIVE
LOVE.'
I smiled,
walked
into the
bedroom,
crawled
into bed
and fell
fast
asleep.
Daniel
Caron is a
workshop
facilitator
and
speaker
who left a
long
career in
Higher
Education
after 9-11
to help
people,
businesses
and
organizations
develop
kind and
safe
relationships
with each
other and
the world.
Daniel and
his wife
Stacy live
on a farm
in West
Virginia
and care
for nine
horses,
fifty
chickens,
two
roosters,
five cats
and a dog.
He can be
reached at
daniel@originalplay.com.
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