Two weeks ago, I finally gave in to my son's plea, went to the Humane Society of Honolulu, and adopted two twin brothers who were just 3.5 weeks old. The incentive to adopt two was that you paid just one fee, but the kitties would remain together—which we would have opted for anyway, despite the fear of the unknown when it comes to a brand new species. And that species is cats.
We have a lovely 6-year-old dog that we adopted four years ago. He was then 2 years old and had been severely traumatized—beaten as a puppy and throughout the first two years of his life. He was very disciplined, to a fault, but was really afraid of anything and anyone. It took him one full year to recover and adjust. Yet even now, four years later, he has his very bad, dark moments. He won't venture into anything new easily. He doesn't like big objects, is still apprehensive of scissors and sharp objects, and does not like the beach. He is also very territorial—hence, adopting cats posed a bit of an issue.
But here we are, two weeks in, with two lovely orange kitties. Being careful and taking good advice from people who know, we've separated the "species," keeping the kitties contained to my boys' room for the time being and introducing their scents to Buddy, the dog.
The Difference Between Broken and Unbroken
But what I truly wanted to communicate today is the difference in their behavior. These tiny kitties never knew trouble or despair. They were with their loving mama until they were picked up at the age of just 2 weeks and placed in the loving hands of the Humane Society's volunteers, who respectfully split the litter into two groups of two so that they wouldn't get lonely.
The kitties are loving, super "purry," very playful but chill, respectful, trusting, and insanely curious. They are mischievous—but so far, in the best possible way! They get into my boys' cupboard to play, they climb the curtains (but only until you tell them "no," at which point they stop), they get into shoes and play with every possible thing that makes a crinkling noise. They love on one another and play-fight viciously yet lovingly. They do not stop themselves before jumping into things. They are so incredibly curious and trusting. They are fun to watch and really fun to be around. And I can see them growing into really fun, loving feline individuals.
Which brings me to Buddy. He had a very different childhood. He is the most loving dog one could dream of, yet he wears a lot of physical and psychological scars. He is afraid of loud noises. He gets very, very nervous in new situations. He hyperventilates when taken somewhere unfamiliar. He is extremely cautious with being curious.
The Scars We Carry
And it makes me think about us, humans, and the pain that some of us carry through life—oftentimes consciously choosing to do so, if our upbringing, our past, our scars have healed on the outside but are still very alive on the inside. How we do not allow ourselves the full curiosity and unbridled joy of experiencing something new and exciting, because those beliefs hold us back so tightly. The scars allow for perceived safety without the potentiality of coming into full bloom.
How do we tap into our curiosity with those scars there? How do we embrace our pasts, with all the pain and oftentimes sorrow that those pasts may bring, take the good lessons, and enjoy the fullness of life that each one of us deserves?
I was lucky to grow up in a family that was loving and supportive, yet I have scars of my own that I know hold me back more than I wish for. I've been sitting with this question, watching these animals navigate their worlds so differently. And then I found myself reading a wonderful new book by Michael McRay, The Wild Way (pre-order here), which is inspiring me so much. I was incredibly privileged to study applied narrative intelligence with Michael, who is a gifted storyteller, experiential coach, and award-winning author.
In the book, Michael talks—very candidly and vulnerably—about his own scars and heart-wrenching life experiences, and the "wildness" that we forget as those experiences shape us into more timid versions of ourselves, but not really the ones we particularly enjoy. "Most of us live by stories we never consciously chose," he writes. "Stories about what makes us worthy. What love should feel like. Who we have to be to belong. When those stories fall apart, we find ourselves in a wild place—uncertain, in-between, directionless."
It's a remarkable blend of personal story not shy of trauma, myth, and quiet reflection, which really touched my soul. Thank you for writing this important book, Michael.
Choosing Curiosity Over Caution
To bring me back to the kittens and Buddy, and the book: Sometimes our pasts can serve as a springboard for mindful unpeeling and renewal. Sometimes, in order to start, we need a good honest book. And sometimes we just need to spend time with little kitties and humans who do not yet know the sorrow the world can inflict upon them. Observe them, learn from them, take their own curiosity and apply tiny bits of it to our own life.
There's something profound about watching these two parallel experiences unfold in real time. The kittens, with their unbroken spirits, remind me of who we all once were—before the world taught us to be careful, before our scars started making decisions for us, before we learned that curiosity could lead to pain.
Buddy reminds me of who many of us have become—still loving, still worthy, still capable of joy, but carrying the weight of what happened to us. Moving through the world with one eye always looking for the next thing that might hurt us.
The Question That Matters
So I want to ask you: What would you do today if you still had that kitten-like curiosity? What would you try if your scars didn't get to vote?
If you're sitting with these questions like I am, I can't recommend Michael's book enough. The Wild Way book is available for pre-order here, and let me know what resonates with you!)
And please, leave a comment below and tell me—are you more kitten or more Buddy right now? I read every response, and I'd love to hear where you are in your own unpeeling.
With Much Aloha,
Olga @YelloBirdie
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