You Don’t Get to Decide

I had a friend named Francis who was a sort of Shaman. She could see spirits and enemies and allies where most of us can’t. I don’t remember how we met, but for a few years she was sort of my Don Juan (from the Carlos Casteneda books).

One day I asked her, offhand, about my cats. I had acquired them at three months of age, but they were still feral after a year. They only came into the house to eat and crap. They wouldn’t come anywhere near me. “I don’t like this situation,” I told her. “It’s like having two borders at a hotel. Will they ever become domesticated?”

Francis took a moment to ask the Universe. Her answer surprised me.

“These are two tiger cats,” she said. (I hadn’t specified.) “They have come into your life to teach you something. Specifically the smaller female.” (Also sizes and sexes had been left unspecified.)

Funny, because at that time, I hadn’t considered the smaller female at all. Rosie was often terrified and spent days hidden under the staircase.

“The male has only come to protect her, he is her servant.” Again, shock. Yes, Buddy was super-protctive, but servant?

“She has come to teach you just this: that you don’t get to decide whether or not they will eventually be domesticated,” she said. “That is their decision.”

Then she turned the tables, and here is where I got goosebumps.

“Just like you don’t get to decide whether or not your children will choose the spiritual path. That is what the smaller female has come to teach you.”

Thanks for the life lesson, dear Rosie (sitting here in my lap, purring).

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