Cat Tale (written 2018)
Today the cat, being a cat, followed me into one of our sheds where I was digging out boxes of tree decorations. By the time I'd shifted and arranged and found the one I was looking for, he had leaped from box to shelf to open rafters and was exploring a variety of interesting items balanced there. His tail hung temptingly not too high for my reach. As I stood at the door, box in my arms, calling him, he answered in an urgent cat meow expressing clearly that he had no intention of coming down to join me yet. Well...
You'll be pleased, I hope, to hear that I did not pull that furry tail and change the tone of his talking. But the thought definitely crossed my mind. Along with the thought that one of the things I love about this little rascal is his very “catness” which makes him curious and daring and a bit of a nuisance so often. I also knew that he would never stay in the shed alone. He'd be much too curious about what I was up to next. However, he'd come out on his own clock, not mine, which meant a walk back across the yard to close up later would be required.
Not too much later, as it turned out. By the time I'd taken the box to the house and crossed the yard again, in another direction, on the way to another shed for the sand pail to deal with our icy drive, puss was out in the snow, complaining about my disappearance. I closed and locked up the first shed, noting that nothing had been knocked down during his rambling in the eaves, nor from an impulsive move on my part that would have sent him scrambling. A win-win on a gorgeous, sun-filled winter day. On we went together to get the sand.
Today has been blessed largely because this mind allowed it to be so. There has been a welcome sense of no timetable to hold the many things to do; blue skies; warm enough temperatures to spend happy time outdoors; and the pleasant task of setting up our new, smaller Christmas tree, lights included, as my husband contentedly watched from his spot at the kitchen table. There has been time to talk with my sister on the phone and time to walk the dog. Time to cook and to clean, to do a brief driving errand, and still to be there when I was needed. Whenever an urgent inner voice reminded me that I hadn't written a blog yet, there was an answering gentler inner voice who assured me that it would be fine and reminded me I create my own sense of urgency when I choose to listen to what has been conditioned.
It should be so obvious by now: the less there is of me working to be what I think I am, the more space there is to just be what the moment requires. What I've learned, at least for today, is not to reach for the dangling “tale” that would have me scrambling and squalling.