We
can often take for granted sitting comfortably… in a chair, on a couch, in any
station we find ourselves in concerning this life. Sometimes, yes, everything
is clicking just right. It is a perfect fit.
Kismet.
Fate. Divine Plan.
Still,
within our daily lives, often we are uncomfortably seated.
Felines
love boxes; they love sitting in boxes. And not just the domestic Tabby
Cat, either.
I
have seen big cats- leopards, lions, and tigers enjoying a cardboard box,
seeing its presence as an invitation to sit in it.
Easier
said than done, however, for Big Kitty. I’m sure you’ve seen some of the
adorable and humorous images online. Many a creature, large or small, has
overestimated the cardboard box’s ability to contain their bodies effectively.
The box is usually squashed. And often, this is the caption that follows…
Awwwwh.
Yet,
if you and I engage in sitting situations, like these fuzzy creatures, it seems
to be, or, at least, feels, less adorable. The experience we have is
awkward, ill-fitting, humiliating, or chaotic. It goes beyond just a squashed
cardboard box. Yet, despite its unpleasantness, much of it seems inevitable,
unavoidable. We cannot escape it.
What
can we do about it?
But
we don’t fit. One way or another, we don’t. There are numerous, unique ways
this shows up for us. And maybe it can be better addressed by a theory on
answered prayer; the Divine answers our prayers one of three ways:
Yes.
Not
yet.
I
have something better for you.
Let’s
just explore that possibility a bit.
When
“If I fits, I sits” is a fail for us, it probably speaks to the educational
process of living ill-fitting. Such as…
When
we haven’t quite grown into something…
“If
I fits, I sits.”
The
problem here isn’t that we crushed some proverbial cardboard box because we’re
too big for it. We haven’t grown into its space. There’s extra room all
alongside of us. If we tried to wear it as clothing (as certain avant-garde
fashion designers have insisted on in many of their runway shows), it’d
probably fall off.
We
want something. We need something. We desire something. We aspire to or strive
towards something. And, the first prayer answer option, “yes,” hasn’t popped up
for us.
Now,
it seems, we are in the realm of option two, “not yet.”
You
can hear the bloodcurdling, frustrated screams, can’t you?
Being
told to wait. Being in limbo. Being put off.
It
feels like there are hurdles and obstacles, roadblocks, all while feeling that
“not yet” is simply a cop out. Just code for “no, and I don’t want to deal with
you further, so I’ll just leave you hanging.”
That’s fun. That’s enjoyable.
So,
what are we supposed to do? Well, what if we consider the felines’ perspective?
Translation?
Sit anyway.
I
know. It’s uncomfortable, embarrassing, even.
You
and I feel stupid, like gluttons for punishment. We do not want to be
here. Between sitting in this ill-fitting situation and standing, with some
modicum of dignity, it seems we’d rather stand, right?
But
there is beauty, meaning, significance, and answers in staying put.
There’s a bigger picture to us staying put concerning a situation in which we
feel way out of our depth. Overwhelmed. Ill-equipped. On hold.
However,
just look what is happening, just look at what is being developed
during all of this waiting!
We
are becoming who we are supposed to be, altered versions of the pre-sit
experience. “Not yet” is where we discover. Discovery doesn’t always equal fun,
but it informs us in a way nothing else can. Make the mistake. Flub. Have a
crisis. Flail. Look like an imbecile. It’s temporary. I give you some advice
from Sir Winston Churchill…
“Success is never final, and failure is never fatal;
it is the courage to continue that counts.”
The courage is found in sitting in the “not
yet.”
Need more? Well, Winston gets
no-nonsense blunt about it…
“If you're going
through hell, keep going.”
That
only happens if you and I are like the felines, who, despite not achieving the
perfect fit, decide they are sitting, nonetheless.
“If I fits, I sits.”
And
then, you and I need to decide for ourselves what value can be gleaned from
this uncomfortably seated situation. There is value. It’s not fun.
But the proverbial cardboard box didn’t promise us it would be fun. It
is just there. We take it up on its offer of being there… and go from
there to a different place.
And
no, we don’t know what that place will be. But it is there for
us. Just not yet.
Can
we stayed seated and develop, in the meantime, understanding that?
When
we have outgrown something…
We
feel the winds of change. Something is different. Something is scary. Something
is life-altering. Like many of the feline images of cats trying to reside in a
too-small box, we sense we no longer fit a situation.
“If I fits, I sits.”
This is, by no means, about us remaining in
something that no longer fits us. Rather, it’s about possessing the awareness,
instead of fighting it, that we have outgrown something in our lives.
Before we take any kind of healthy and beneficial action, we must, first,
be aware that our lives need to change. No small thing. It’s an intimidating
cardboard box to behold.
Sometimes,
we need to become so uncomfortable, be in so much pain, by resisting the pain
that persists, that the fear takes a backseat to the agony of having outgrown
something. Growing pains. They don’t call them “Growing Pleasures,” now, do
they?
Wherever
we are in this seating arrangement, each of us needs to decide for ourselves
the question of how much is enough. How much is too much? Some of us
have ridiculous thresholds of pain. Some of us can tolerate a lot of abuse,
disorder, and dysfunction.
But
there is a saturation point. Sooner or later, each of us reaches the awareness
of what that is.
Sitting
in this circumstance, we, again, are often in “not yet” territory when it comes
to any answered prayer or yearning.
“If
I fits, I sits.”
Sit
anyway.
Okay,
so maybe we’re not moving now.
Maybe we feel paralyzed, stranded, confused. Maybe
it’s stagnant right now.
But
this feeling is not without its own merit. We need to remember this
paralyzed, stagnant, stuck feeling; use it as fuel to not remain the limitation
of who we were. We are in the process of becoming; we are constantly
changing. We need look no further than our high school yearbook photos. We are
not now who we were then. Thankfully. Because some of those hairstyles
were atrocious!
But
seriously, look at yourself, say, fifteen years ago. See any differences? Of course,
you do! That was a different age and stage and time than where you are now. You
changed. And you’ll do it again.
We
all need to reassure ourselves of that.
So,
in the meantime…
Sit anyway.
And
know the unfolding plan and change will reveal itself.
Be
“Big cat in a tiny box” confident of that.
When
we have been told/we believe we shouldn’t have something…
Here
is where we, perhaps, finally get to the third answered prayer option: “I
have something better for you.”
Yes,
we may be waiting in “not yet” limbo, but this core belief, kicking around in
many of us, can threaten to defeat us, all because we assert, somehow, we do
not deserve something good, healthy, or loving. We can be completely
unconscious we are operating from this perspective too. It’s subtle. It’s just
a way of being from some early experience that wrongly taught us we are
undeserving, no matter what we do or don’t do, no matter who we are. That’s a
painful, lonely, and difficult thing to overcome in life.
Let’s
revisit the felines for a bit.
The
mentality of them is claiming rightful ownership of a cardboard box, however
how ill-fitting it may be. Felines are all about dominion, aren’t they? Couch,
bed, person, they “claim.” They “own.” There is no self-doubt.
“If
I fits, I sits.”
Too
small? Too big? Not quite “ours?” No problem!
Sit anyway.
Sit
anyway.
I
know, yet again, it’s easier said than done. Believing we are worthy. How does
that become organically engrained in our being? How does it become an automatic
thought we don’t need to reach or try so hard for?
Perhaps,
it starts by recognizing and admitting to ourselves that we have been fed wrong
information about our worth. We were lied to, misled, and ill-prepared to
accept that which we deserve. Those wrong lessons came from someone; the origin
of that harmful misinformation has often been in the form of a person or
persons. Often, those individuals have believed the lie or the information
several times over for themselves. And, because they don’t know any
differently, they pass it on to us. Sometimes, it is of malicious intent, but
most of the time, there is an unawareness of self-worth. There is only the
acceptance of settling for less than what a human being deserves. And one way
or another, we all settle.
Some
of us dare not sit, because we believe it is not an available option to us.
Some
of us dare not sit because we believe that standing, crouching, or lying down,
symbolic of very specific “answers” are the only solutions OVER sitting.
Some
of us dare not sit because we believe the box is for someone else, never for
us.
We
question, self-doubt, disqualify, maybe, even more so, because we and/or life
circumstances are not “perfect enough” yet. So, we settle for something only
being as good as a certain level, while never believing there could ever be a
better way. It’s not about FOMO or “Bigger, better deal.” It’s about not
valuing ourselves at all. It’s about not believing we are entitled to rest, to
sit, to experience a respite of a good thing in life.
And
so, we accept the unfulfilling plan, marriage, relationship, expectation, and opportunity
because, after all, being disappointed and unfulfilled IS something that we
have coming. We can sit in misery. That’s a familiar cardboard box. But joy?
Peace? Contentment? Acceptance of who we are? Well, we can never inhabit THAT
space.
We
decide that is not our rightful space.
Only,
it is.
Just
look at the decidedness of the feline choosing its box. Boom!
“If
I fits, I sits.”
There
is no second guessing, no waffling. No awaiting perfection. There is no
attention being paid to naysayers.
Sit
anyway.
Sitting
into, settling into, our authentic, valuable lives is an inherent right. It’s
about taking up rightful space. There will always be an argument and reasons
not to do so.
But
there will also always be proverbial boxes, extending the invitation to feel
like we’re not quite ready, to get uncomfortable, to grow, to stretch, to sit
in the process of all that “sitting anyway” means.
In
this regard, you and I do “fit.” Therefore, because we fit, we can agree
with and practice that same assertion:
“If
I fits, I sits.”
Sit
anyway.
Sit
anyway.
Sit
anyway.
Copyright © 2021 by Sheryle Cruse
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