I’m sitting on my little couch watching my cute little Marley sleep on my hand. Since we moved away from Arizona, before my big backpacking adventure, both of my cats have had a hard time.

Cats are notorious for disliking change. I have very adaptable cats; even as adults, they are very trainable…and able to endure the extremes I put them in. They go from 0 to 60 with me, like the time they were safely chomping on their morning pate in my parents’ home in Delaware, then suddenly in a blanket fort in the backseat of my truck backing out of the driveway. They, against their will, accompanied me across the country for one month of camping and visiting unfamiliar homes on the way to Alaska.

It’s no surprise to me that they are so adaptable. Despite my own fears, I am very adaptable; it’s one of my superpowers, in fact. But like they say that owners start to look like their dogs, cats take on the energy of their owners.

My cats, in my parents’ home, where there was great contrast between one excessively adaptable, one excessively unadaptable and one middle-road human in the home most of the time, were confused. They adopted the behavior of the strongest energetic force in the home to maintain their safety: the unadaptable and anxious one. They took to biting, howling and hiding.

Now, having been in our new home in Alaska for some time, they’ve molded back to the state of being matching the adaptable human (me). Like all animals, inanimate objects, people and plants, cats are strongly affected by the energy you are carrying.

As I sit here staring at sweet little Marley (she actually is tiny but it matches her giant, in-charge personality), I am caught in a moment of self-analysis. I’m going to spin a ‘deficit’ of mine into a positive here, hang on for this.

It started earlier today:

“Well, you know how he is, his dogs are his babies, just like your cats are yours.”

I was visiting a friend at the local hardware store. As this statement flowed naturally from my friend’s mouth, the analysis began. This sentence was a mirror: Are my cats my babies?

I carried on with the day, eventually returning to be greeted by my kitties. They are like dogs. Attentive, attention-seeking, affection-seeking, never wanting to be apart from me.

Since we arrived in Alaska, they have been slowly becoming more affectionate. In their early years when we lived in Arizona, they would follow every move I made and vie for the prime position on my lap, even during toilet time. I was meditating a lot at the time. My energy was bright and high. I was sad when they abandoned this practice after our move to Delaware.

Today, Marley came and sat next to me, reached for my arm and laid her head down. I could feel nothing at first. I thought of what my friend had said earlier.

People get so attached to their pets. I haven’t been like that. I’ve been too into myself and my goals. Too into my own survival. At times, they’ve felt like a hindrance. I thought of how horrible it must have been for them to live in the energy of me always worrying about how I could find a home for them so that I could travel indefinitely again.

I watched her, feeling nothing. I have worked so hard on detachment and needing nothing. I wondered if I had taken it to an extreme.

But then a moment later, the love started. I thought about how intimately I was getting to know her and developing good communication with her. This little being trusts me.

I remembered why detachment has been so important to me. I have worked on being happy with myself, and to be detached and free of need so that I can love others fully and truthfully. I wanted to have real love, not love that is an escape from facing myself. So, I spent most of my time facing myself instead.

Love is not need or attachment, although I believe that people mistake the feeling of them for it. Love is a process of getting to know someone on such a finite level and allowing them to be exactly what you find. You don’t have to always be there and you don’t have to promise to never leave. You enjoy the time you have, appreciate it, and acknowledge that everyone has their path and allow them to be on it, whether you get to be there for it or not.

I remember driving down the 7 mile road between Window Rock and Fort Defiance, Arizona with a guy I quite liked. It was only our third date.

“I love getting to know someone. It’s fun to think of how many moments of them there are to learn about. To get to know them and understand them.”

I should have known in that moment that it wasn’t going to work out when he looked exhausted by my comment. The thought of having to do that whole process again with someone new was too much and I was the current object of curiosity.

The cats are getting closer to me. Now Neko, the boy, is sitting with me as I write. The cats are getting closer to me…maybe that’s a sign that I’m getting closer to being able to truly love.