Often, people ask me about the right way to interact with others. I have a friend who constantly replays past mistakes in his mind, wondering how things should have been done. And then there are those who, even into their mid-twenties, still haven't grasped the basic art of being human.
I believe there is no single “right” way to approach every situation—whether it's talking to someone you're interested in, consoling a colleague, or simply living your life while including others in it. What I'm getting at is that many of us begin life with vague or even absent boundaries.
Take, for example, the image of two kittens: one confident, curious, and outgoing; the other shy, reserved, and defensive. At first, the confident, orange kitten rejected the timid one—as did everyone else. The timid kitten was like a traumatized runaway, lost and without guidance. Yet over time, something changed. The orange kitten persistently teased and played, gradually warming up to its companion. While they still fought over food and a subtle hierarchy persisted, the timid kitten gained trust and found companionship.
This simple dynamic mirrors life: things rarely turn out exactly as we expect, and what works for one person may not work for another.
The right choice is the one that aligns with your own principles—after all, a man of no principles is no man at all.
I would like to know your interpretation of the image and dynamic between the two kittens
I like your interpretation. Calicos are genetically predisposed to be females. The orange kitty looks like a Tom cat who's been in more than a few scuffles and hasn't bothered grooming himself since. Too busy staring down the photographer? Hangover? Who knows? hahaha!
very short and sweet yet packed so much. My premise is that there are 8 billion G.A.R's on the planet. G.A.R is a principle I discussed in my last instrument of change (book) called Humanistry. G.A.R meaning generally accepted reality. each individual has one.