Unselfishness (or should I say "selflessness")

I recently got a cat. Perhaps I should say that the cat got me, because now that she's settling in, she seems rather intent on training me to do exactly what she wants me to do. This isn't unexpected, by the way. I generally knew what I was getting into, and I'm setting boundaries for her. For example, she doesn't sleep with me, and she's not allowed inside my bedroom without me there, too. She might think that I exist to pet her, but there are times when I need to eat or shower, and then she doesn't get what she wants, even though she is looking at me with those huge, reproachful eyes.

People will say that getting a pet, like having a child, changes your life. Although the two are not quite on the same level, it's true. Of course, anytime you open your life to another person, or an animal, you give up a little of your autonomy. I can't just leave home anymore without considering the cat's needs. If I run out of certain cat-related necessities, I have to make time to go to the store. If I would prefer writing, and the cat would prefer sitting on my keyboard because I am supposed to be scratching her under the chin, the writing is highly unlikely to get done.

This whole thing was the reason I was hesitant, and not a little nervous, about getting a cat. The truth is that I like having my own space, and being able to do my own thing, whenever I want to do it. I am, at heart, an introvert, and probably a fairly selfish person. I don't mind helping others, or taking care of others, but I prefer to do it on my own terms.

Clearly, the Christian walk demands selflessness on a level that is not easily reached, let alone maintained. We are called to give of our "time, talents, and treasure" to quote a popular evangelical saying. Jesus called us to lay down our lives for Him, and for our brothers and sisters.

On the other hand, between my counseling and law degrees, I've learned the hard lesson that if you don't take care of yourself, you will burn out. I've noticed that people, rather than striking a balance between selflessness and so-called selfishness (I prefer the term "self-care"), will tend to go one way or another. Either they will be unable to say no, and will therefore find themselves worried, anxious, and exhausted, or they will be entirely selfish, and not consider the needs of others at all.

When I was counseling, a lot of the women I worked with tended to give too much of themselves. I think this is fairly typical of what the Church and our culture demands. Women are often the main caregivers, and take care of the lion's share of weekly household chores--often while working full time. These women had nothing left to give, and wondered why they were depressed and exhausted, when just an hour or two a week of doing something that recharged them would have done wonders. The bottom line is that we are called to love our neighbors as ourselves, which seems to suggest a certain amount of self-love. It's a toss-up as to which one is more difficult at times.

Finding the balance, therefore, between doing for others and doing for ourselves is difficult to say the least. That's one reason why I got a cat, to be honest. One of these days, I do want to have children, and it's probably a good idea to get used to the idea of being responsible for something or someone other than myself. I was better at it when I had a roommate to consider, but when you live alone, the "selflessness muscles" atrophy, and pretty quickly, too.

In general, I think the rewards greatly outweigh the burdens you encounter when allowing other people and things in your life, no matter which side of the line you tend to wind up on. When you take time for yourself and exercise what the therapists call "a little healthy selfishness" you'll have more to give to others. I know that when I've recharged, it's easier for me to be completely there with and for another person who needs me. And the burdens of knowing that you are responsible to someone or something is worth it as well. In fact, I'd argue that love is always worth it.