What if we already KNOW

or, what Princess Buttercup taught me about becoming

Princess Buttercup, about 6 weeks old

This past June, one of the women from our church texted me to ask if we might be interested in rescuing one, or more, of a litter of kittens on an abandoned property she was rehabbing, and OF COURSE I said yes. There is no other appropriate response to this question. And, so, we brought home one very small, very bedraggled, and very sick ginger and white baby, *just* weaned and slightly feral.

It took a couple of days to get her into the vet (we did think she was a he at that point because most orange cats are male), and I was growing more and more anxious about not only her health, but also about my ability to teach her how to be a cat, and to do “cat” things - like use the litter box and groom herself, since she didn't have a mother anymore, and our three other cats were not very welcoming at that point (this is an understatement).

As it turns out, Buttercup did just fine (once she finished a course of antibiotics and worming protocols), and did, in fact, have all the skills necessary to grow into a beautiful and fully functioning cat, without any intervention from me at all. And as I watched her grow strong and lithe, and as I watched her personality emerge over the summer and autumn, I reflected back on how scared I was that I would have to figure out how to teach her how to cat, when I didn't know if I would be able to do a good enough job. But, as it turns out, she knew who she was all along, and had all the necessary skills within her to grow into the precious sweet baby that she is. All she needed was a safe environment and her innate trust in herself to

Buttercup, about 6 months old

This is lesson that I am slowly learning. As I am navigating my way through these uncharted waters of midlife, I find myself slowly shedding the layers that I have put on through the years, mostly because I have been truly worried that I didn't know how to be ME. So, I borrowed so many ill-fitting images and ideas, hoping that at least one of them might be The One that pulled it all together, that made all the pieces fit and made everything about me make sense.

And, the more I leave behind those things that no longer serve me, it is becoming clear that I never needed them at all. Because at the deepest, cellular level, I do, in fact, know how to me ME. And, I’m pretty damned awesome at being me. But, it has been a journey to get here, and most days, it feels like I am still becoming.

I have heard it said that we spend the first half of life learning how to be in this world, and the second half unlearning all of it. We begin to disentangle what we have been told is true from what we are newly understanding to be true, moving once again toward the deep inner knowing of who we are - who we have really been looking for all along. I feel that this is especially, and perhaps, uniquely, the experience of women, who have been socialized to be caretakers and to suppress our very selves for the good of society.

Even our biology bears this out. If we were born with a uterus, as we approach midlife, our hormones begin to shift away from the natural nurturing urge of cycles and pregnancy and nursing, the ebb and flow moving through us, the subtle but often relentless urge to care for others, and we begin, for perhaps the first time since we were children, to rediscover ourselves as individuals, separate from family responsibilities and relationships. This can be disorienting and powerful, at the same time. And, it is why crones have been viewed with such skepticism and outright fear by patriarchal societies.

And, just as all of my anxiety about mothering a tiny, helpless kitten turned out to be for nought, so, too, I am finding, is my own worry about my own becoming. It has taken me 50+ years to get here, and the process at times feels daunting and murky. But, as I go further up and further in through this second half of my life, I am learning that all I needed all along is right HERE, in my heart, my intuition, and my soul. I am learning to trust myself the same way that Buttercup does - confidently and without unnecessary thought.

I can't help but wish I had learned this lesson earlier in life, but maybe this is the course of things. That, after we have nurtured others, we are finally able to nurture ourselves. My prayer is that the next generation will be more like Buttercup, and that we are teaching them how to trust themselves from the beginning, so that they won't have to wait until midlife to claim their own worthy selves.

And, my wish for you, Dear Reader, is that you would come to that same deep, innate knowing of who you are, and embrace it, in the wild and innocent and self-assured way of a kitten who simply knows how to become a cat.