Sometimes relief does not look like escape. Sometimes it looks like stillness.
I had to go to a temple in Mumbai recently. I agreed mostly because I had never been there before. Otherwise, I usually avoid temples. Not because I am not a Hindu or a believer, it is different.
I believe deeply, in Christianity, and in the overall existence of something far more powerful than us. But I tend to avoid crowded performances of belief of any kind. Unless a place is ancient, quiet, beautiful, or carries some sense of stillness, I generally stay away.
And of course, this one was crowded. Mumbai crowded. The kind where you stop feeling like a person and start feeling like part of a moving organism made of elbows, sweat, noise, impatience, devotion, and urgency. I already avoid crowds in general, so very quickly my only thought became I need to get out of here.
Then, weirdly, I think God helped.
A tiny kitten appeared from nowhere.
Right in the middle of all those moving legs.
I picked her up almost instinctively. Honestly, she could have panicked, scratched me, escaped, disappeared back into the chaos. Initially she did have that nervous energy, trying to move, figuring out what was happening, deciding whether I was danger or safety.
But then something changed.
A few minutes later, she was completely asleep on me. Purring continuously. Entirely relaxed.
While everyone else was inside the temple praying, I was outside holding this tiny creature that somehow made my belief stronger than the temple itself did.
That moment felt strangely personal.
Like God saying: “You wanted relief? Here.”
Not through some grand miracle. Not through words. Just through a kitten.
And I think that is what stayed with me, the idea that maybe God does not always remove you from misery dramatically. Sometimes he simply places a small opening in front of you. A way out. A softer corner. A pause.
You still have to notice it.
You still have to pick it up.
You still have to step aside from the chaos and allow yourself to receive it.
The kitten’s side of the story interests me too.
She was literally picked up from a difficult situation, surrounded by noise, legs, uncertainty, danger. Her first response was nervousness. Which is normal. Probably intelligent.
But then she settled. I don’t think every cat would have. Maybe she sensed calm. Maybe animals understand nervous systems better than humans do. Maybe she realized resistance was unnecessary. Or maybe she simply understood that some battles are unfair.
When you are overpowered by the situation around you, constant panic does not always save you. Sometimes the only useful thing left is to regulate yourself. To soften. To purr.
I think about that often while looking at the world now. Wars. News cycles. Anger everywhere. Constant helplessness.
And sometimes all you can really do is sit quietly at home and purr. Stay soft. Stay calm. Do your small part properly. Refuse to let the chaos enter your nervous system completely.
Maybe that is survival too.