I am not a cat person.

And then I got this dood (the one on the right).

It’s love.

A while back I would've laughed heartily at the suggestion that I would ever let a cat into my home. The hair! The scratching! and what's with the eyes, cat? You're your own mystical creature and your lack of neediness clashes with my Libra co-dependencies. Not to mention the Indian cultural archetype of cats being bad luck (which my mother reminded me of when I told her she was a new grand petmother). And add on top of that the pagan symbolism of a black cat? pfff. You straight up crazy girl, I say to myself.

But, quickly and without over-thinking as these great moments happen, I opened up my eyes to an opportunity to accept and give love in my life and resist the temptation to fall back on my supposed hard-wired dislikes. It’s a ‘Yes, And’ that is proving to be very good thus far. We just have to work on the scratching.

In my youth, I detested indian food, cooked carrots, and swore I would never wear a dress. Like ever.

While I still hold the same regard for cooked carrots, my tastes have evolved and I've grown to relish the opportunity to grow and break my previous limitations. The box I hold myself in, of liking this and not liking that are not really true and often crystallized in fleeting moments. I know what I like, but I'm not a staunchly opinionated person and to be set in my ways about something feels like I’m blocking the flow of life more often than not.

With that in mind, I wonder how often we hold ourselves in allegiance to a like or a dislike just out of habit. Maybe if we can all just take a stab at doing something we said we hated because of that previous experience, we’d learn to embrace and actually derive pleasure from a previous sore spot (for example: sushi/Avril Lavigne’s singing/public speaking).

Yes, yes, I’m off to cook some carrots tonight…

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