They say (whoever they are) cats domesticate humans, not the other way around.
Dogs, on the other hand, give it up for anyone.
They just ooze love and attention.
But cats require a certain je ne sais quoi… A certain finesse.
As for yours truly, I lend myself to the feline purrrsuasion.
Not that it’s ever a good idea to quote Andrew Dice Clay, but in his esteemed words, “I don’t play hard to get, I play hard to want.”
Fortunately, over the last several weeks I’ve found a partner willing to ride this rollercoaster I call life, and she has a certain finesse about her, too.
I’ve found my match, and we have kitties.
We’ve all moved into a house, and the adventures in domestication have ensued.
And yes, young Bucky, you may be asking yourself or screaming at your screen, what the hell does this have to do with thriving beyond trauma!?
Well hold on to your tighty-whiteys as I elucidate on the finer points of living in a mad realm… I mean our happy abode. 😇
Two Cats Walk Into A Bar
Tricia just told me if you die while having an orgasm, you’re both cumming and going.
Should I be worried?
Should I even be writing right now?
I’m trying to formulate (somewhat) coherent thoughts whilst blogging on my phone after working strenuously in the Phoenician heat and sitting patiently as our landlord replaces our water heater.
Yes, today’s adventure includes getting a call from my exasperated beloved that our house flooded due to our ancient water heater bursting.
All I did was comfort her, come home, and start cleaning up water.
She, on the other hand, got the shock of not only finding the soggy mess but also getting slightly electrocuted by her computer power cord.
And yes, the kitties are fine. Thank you for asking.
They took to high ground on the couch since no ark was built.
Tricia, however, was not a happy camper.
And rightfully so.
Now that the dust (or water) has settled, she is doing much better.
Fortunately, our landlord was mostly responsive (once he called us back), came over and has fixed the issue.
Sure, some of our boxes and electronics got soaked, but we lived and things appear to be moving along.
Don’t get me wrong. It was an ordeal.
I’m just glad Tricia (and the kitties) are okay.
You Don’t Have to be Crazy to Live Here… We’ll Train You
You still may be asking yourself what the fuck this has to do with thriving beyond trauma…
Or maybe you’re wondering why you subscribe to this blog or if you left the oven on.
Regardless, in a roundabout way, I think describing the domestication of trauma survivors (the cats included) is in and of itself, thriving beyond trauma.
Last week we quit smoking.
This week we started up again.
And by we I mean I did and Tricia followed suit especially in the wake of house flooding.
Is it an excuse?
It’s two people seeking clemency through nicotine addiction rather than flipping the fuck out.
So yes, there’s still some room for growth.
I can understand after her day today wanting a cigarette.
My reasoning was much less justified.
I thought I lost my precious Beats ear buds.
Yes, I can be that superficial and shallow.
I was pissed about losing my overpriced electronic doo-dads and basically threw a fit of self pity and nihilism.
No, the house flooding didn’t get me going.
It was something as meaningless and simple as losing a toy that threw me over the edge.
I found the fucking earbuds today in the work truck.
I started smoking again over nothing.
Yes, the gremlins are loud right now.
In an attempt to take the nail out of the board I beat myself with, I will say thriving beyond trauma is not linear nor am I perfect (nor am I expected to be—except by those fucking gremlins).
I’m sure I’ll quit again.
I mean everyone quits smoking sooner or later.
I’m just planning on it being sooner.
So during our eight cigarette-free days Tricia and my new-found domestic life experienced some challenges.
Learning to live with another adult in an intimate environment is definitely an adventure.
It’s an adventure I’m grateful for.
However, I heard in a meeting a while back that getting in a relationship is like adding MiracleGrow to your character defects.
It also reminds me of the Parable of the Porcupines…
In order to survive the harsh winter conditions (wherever the hell porcupines live—probably north of here), they need to huddle together to stay warm.
However, when the pokey beasts close in for comfort, their quills prick (and hurt) one another.
If they retract from each other because of the pain, they won’t survive the cold conditions.
So to survive, they need to tolerate each other’s pokes as they huddle together.
So if Tricia can live with this prick, I think we have a chance at a real warm winter.
As our relationship blossoms, we are learning each other’s triggers and tender places (some more tender than others 😈 but that’s for a different type of blog).
And it’s a fucking adventure in thriving beyond motherfucking trauma!!!!
And I’d have it no other way!
So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
And smoke some for me too because the streets are safer if I don’t smoke it.
House Panther Manor
Facebook wouldn’t let me call our home La Casa de Los Gatos, so I’m guessing that’s a euphemism for something else.
The point is (if there really is one) that this domestication gig requires give and take.
It requires intention and attention.
It requires being present, not sweating the petty things, and petting the sweaty things…
Or something like that.
There are times to practice boundaries, anticipate the needs of my partner, honoring my needs, and sometimes just letting shit slide.
Neither of us are perfect, and we both have a trail of broken hearts in our past (particularly our own).
So we practice every day an assumption of good will.
When one of our quills pokes the other, we don’t keep score or bite the other’s fucking head off.
We remember we love each other and give the other the benefit of the doubt.
I say (write) this to be instructive and as a reminder to yours truly.
When one grows up as a child of chaos raised by wolves, the business of scorekeeping and resentment meant power and supposed safety.
In a relationship where two adults choose to thrive beyond trauma, we practice admitting our mistakes and forgiving quickly.
I’m not perfect at this and screw up regularly.
However, Tricia and I communicate beautifully, and we try not to let things fester.
Intimacy and vulnerability are absolutely necessary for creating a long term happy relationship.
And when you (I mean me, young Bucky) choose to shack up with someone, you are given choices moment by moment.
And today, I choose to practice being in a loving relationship.
I am here to love Tricia.
I am not here to fix her because she isn’t broken.
And let’s face it, anyone who chooses to live with me in relationship should be given a fucking medal!
You’ve read my blog…
Imagine living with this day in and day out.
At least you can close your browser or unsubscribe.
This lady has me unfiltered every fucking day!
I will say in my defense, she says I’m a beautiful man.
And she’s right.
And I agree with her.
She sees my heart.
Shriveled and blackened though it may be, it beats fiercely for love and purpose.
She is my partner, and she is a beautiful woman inside and out.
I think May West said, “A hard man is good to cum by.”
I don’t know how else to end a blog on the fly…
In order to see your life as thriving beyond trauma, frame it as a motherfucking adventure!
We get to do this.
Stop saying you HAVE to do things!
You GET to!
If you haven’t shit your pants today, it’s a good day!
It’s like I tell Tricia… I choose to be here with her.
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Life is exactly as it should be right now.
True happiness is found when we stop resisting what is.
That bears repeating…
True happiness is found when we stop resisting what is.
These would’ve been good words for me to remember when I decided to start smoking again, but even that was meant to be.
Everything contains a lesson, and every adventure is worth living.
If you want to thrive beyond trauma, decide right fucking now that everything is as it should be and make it what you want it to be.
Throw yourself in the deep end.
Find the person of your dreams.
Move in with them.
Get some fucking cats.
Or do whatever the fuck you want. It’s your life.
No one’s coming to rescue you.
Now’s the time to just fucking do it!
Be well 😊
Thank you for tuning into another episode of as the Harley tire turns. This is a first for both of us that I should write a blog entry via mi teléfono and you should read said blog á la phone.
If you enjoyed this post, be sure to check out my other entries as well and be sure to like, comment, and follow.
But wait, there’s more! I also offer life coaching services! Are you ready for a relationship or some kitties? Shoot me an email! firstname.lastname@example.org
You can also check out my podcast. Coming soon is season one’s finale! Episode 13 where I interview Tricia! You won’t want to miss that!
You can also check me out on Instagram @greenleaf_4_life or on TikTok @greenleaf4life