Velvet Paws

Androcles and the Lion

Today, I noticed my lion limping again.

Perhaps you know the parable of the lion with a thorn in his paw. The phrase “Velvet Paws” hasn’t left me since I first read it.

The story goes that an escaped slave in Rome named Androcles, comes upon a lion in the forest. Frightened at first, he notices the lion limping, a thorn lodged deeply in his paw pad. He offered to help—but only if the lion could meet him with velvet paws, sparing his life in return for his care.

Later, Androcles is captured and condemned to be devoured by wild animals in the stadium. When the beasts are released to devour Androcles, the most imposing of them turns out to be the same lion, which again displays his gratitude toward Androcles. At this astonishing turn of compassion and mercy, both man and beast are pardoned.

Both man and beast are freed.

The limping lion of mine that I noticed was my Lion Heart. My heart is big, strong, steady, ferocious, protective, full, and capable. Until it gets a thorn its paw. For me, that thorn is often the thorn of compassion fatigue. And this happens most often when I’m not paying attention to where I walk, or how much I’m carrying in these paws of mine.

Briton Riviere - Androcles and the Lion - 1915-3 - Auckland Art Gallery

In my Reiki training, we often talk about how we are channels for healing, not the source itself. And that tracks so beautifully for me, because to heal without depletion (to let compassion flow through me) requires me to respond to myself with some velvet paws-enough gentleness to get out of my own way.

This thorn showed itself as I shared about the fatigue I was feeling in my healing work, and it was reflected back to me that I was running on low reserves, and that I might need to take a seat for a second and see what I needed for myself. That’s when I found the thorn in my Heart’s paw.

I hold a beautiful container for my clients, but I hadn’t been held myself in a while. And all I had allowed to be poured into me-the sacred pain I companion, had nowhere to go. So every fateful step I took, felt like stepping with a thorn in my paw.

The beauty here is that we are all both the lion and Androcles.

I have to trust this ferocious heart of mine to be velvet-pawed as I perform the healing task of thorn removal. In real terms this means reminding my heart that even though she is incredibly strong, she must be mindful of where and how she steps in the hallowed ground of healing work.

And, as the Lion, I must trust the nurturer in me, and the nurturers around me to allow myself to soften enough to let the thorn be removed. I must trust myself and those I love to be trustworthy in holding me with velvet paws when I let my defenses down.

The velvet paws of the ferocious lion is exactly the balance I hope to embody—
not strength that denies softness,
but strength revealed because of it.

To be wild-hearted and still bow to tenderness.
To know when to roar,
and when to let someone near enough to touch the wound.

This is the self-compassion that finds the thorn,
that pauses long enough to pull it gently free.
This is how I return to myself,
not with force—
but with breath, with stillness,
with velvet paws.

May I remember that even the fiercest heart needs tending.
May I meet all I touch with velvet paws.

And if you, too, are walking with a thorn in your paw - if your own Lion Heart is tired, sore, or stumbling - may you pause. May you trust the part of you that knows how to kneel beside pain. Let yourself be met with tenderness. By your own hands, or by someone whose gentleness you trust.

You are allowed to be both brave and weary, both the healer and the one in need of healing. You are both Androcles and the lion. And you, too, are worthy of velvet paws.