Wild Thing… Ohh

How do you love a wild thing?

Ragu is a wild cat, although he “belongs” to my neighbour. Since I’m staying in my house in South Italy he comes every day, the first days he just demanded food with a loud loud voice and wouldn’t let anyone touch him. So my mom, her friend Larisa and I gave him food. We even bought sausages at the supermarket to have something ready to give him whenever he would come. He’d come for breakfast, lunch and dinner having understood that we do feed him. I was not ok with him coming at every hour of the day (actually when we were home, he knew and would come by) so I told him “no Ragu, I’ll feed you this evening… come back then”. He would leave and come later while we were having dinner.

How do you love a wild thing?

That’s what I thought one evening watching him eat, trying to cuddle him but again he wouldn’t let me. He just wasn’t that type of animal. I began seeing his life as a kitten before my eyes and I understood: he doesn’t need me. So how do I love you? How do I love you if I can’t cuddle you nor touch you? … These questions looped in my head, until my heart answered:

You love by letting him be this wild thing you don’t understand, because you don’t need to understand. You love by leaving him the freedom, without trying to possess him… without trying to change him into something you need! It’s your need to cuddle him, not his. You love by trying to understand his needs and be honest with you in questioning yourself if you can accomodate his needs. If not just let be. Just love. Just be.

I let him be. I didn’t impose him my cuddles, and he just comes during the day and sleeps. He doesn’t ask for anything. He knows he is welcome. He knows there is plenty of love energy for him. He can leave whenever, come whenever. He is not owned. I owe him nothing. Ultimate beautiful freedom. Unconditional Love.
I couldn’t but wonder about love between humans. And I wondered how many times have I loved the wrong way? Too much possession from my side, I just wanted that man all to myself. But if he was so wonderful, wouldn’t I want to share him with the world so that everyone and everything can be touched by his uniqueness, loveliness, beauty and positivity?… I also ended up always in a cage, built firstly by myself. Ideally, romantic love and jealousy are so tempting because that’s all you watch in movies, read in books and listen in pop songs. But it’s consuming, and ends up being frustrating this kind of relationship we wrongly call love. Now I know.
Ultimately I am a bit like Ragu. We all are like Ragu.

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