Tag Archives: cats

Mar23

Day of Distinction – Must I be Satisfied to be Content?

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I love distinctions. I’m far from an expert and don’t claim to base mine on much more than how I’ve experienced a word or how it feels. I have an admitted addiction to my Thesaurus and fear that as we settle for the shortening of words and the discarding of punctuation we will lose nuance along the way. How boring will life become then! In honor of our amazing gift of words I declare Fridays the Day of Distinction, choose your words with care; they are an endangered species.

Must I be Satisfied to be Content?

To be satisfied feels as if there must have been some kind of goal or result or expectation involved. Satisfied seems to require action and a yardstick by which to judge the result of that action. Perspective plays a part in satisfaction as well. I can be satisfied with a result or an attempt at a result, depending on which perspective I choose. Is my perfectionist looking at whatever and satisfied with what I’ve done? Is the me who’s learning I am enough, the observer and therefore the intention behind and effort I put forth enough though the result is less than perfect? Satisfaction comes from the outside in and fills our need for measurable accomplishment.

Contentment on the other hand is a state of being, more a result of awareness and presence than doing or accomplishing. I can be in the midst of an unfinished project or even thrashing around in the throes of anguish, stop, notice the way the sun hits a branch or how cute my cat looks sleeping and be flooded with contentment, then return to whatever I was doing not yet satisfied. Contentment comes from the inside and wraps us in comfort and the feeling that all is well.

For example, I’m not satisfied with my life right now, without a job and the income it brings I am uncomfortable, feel less than and am frustrated that as skilled and experienced as I am no one wants to hire me. What more should I do or be to achieve my goal?

On the other hand when I really stop and look at my life right this moment, I have everything I need, dear loving friends, health and opportunity, suddenly I am content to trust that the universe knows what it’s doing.

On the flip side, satisfaction can have egotism and superiority as its downfall; contentment can lead to complacency and possibly sloth. (Or other “deadly” sins I suppose)

For each there is a place; satisfaction spurs us to try and often accomplish, then holds us in that higher level we’ve achieved. Contentment teaches us balance and to stop and smell the roses so we remember to be as well as to do.

Satisfaction is the cat that has just eaten the canary; contentment is the cat lying in the sun while the canary sings above him.

onward and upward,

© C A Crossman and Dancing Through Life with Spirit, 2012

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Mar7

I’m Just Wild About Harry

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“One runs the risk of weeping a little if one lets himself be tamed” so says the Little Prince in my favorite book and it’s an issue I struggle with constantly. This morning Harry is missing and those words echo in my ears every time I look out the window.

Harry is one of my feral cats, and I’m just wild about Harry.

After my old cat Ian died and there was no one to guard the premises, a mother/daughter pair of cats moved in under the house. It was nice to have cats in the yard again so I let them stay.

Annie and Agnes (Ado Annie for the girl who just can’t say no in the musical Oklahoma and Agnes the secretary from Mame who takes a chance on life and ends up with more than she bargained for.) proved to be in the family way, not a good thing in a neighborhood with too many unwanted feral cats.

Then my neighbor came to the rescue with information about our town’s free spay neuter program for ferals. So we borrowed a trap and began an odyssey that would result in 15 spayed or neutered strays.

Of those fifteen, one decided she wanted to be a house cat and joined the family; eight live in my garden, one or two come by for breakfast, dinner and high tea. Yeah, I’m a crazy cat lady!

When word got out and the line for dinner reservations got too long, I began naming the cats by the alphabet, there was a little mix-up over black cats and so there are three B’s, Blackie, B-2 and Bagheera, luckily when we got to Phineas (who remains uncaptured) the parade slowed down.

So at any given time there’s a cat or two (or three or four) in view. Because most of the cats are young, barely a year old, they love to play and watching them provides great entertainment for the house gang and me.

Four of the ferals are pettable, 2 have become snugglers, and one has made several requests to join the house gang, that’s Harry. Did I mention I’m just wild about Harry?

Harry was tamed by playing chase the string, coming ever closer until the day he brushed against my leg; I scratched between his shoulder blades and the rest is history. He was tamed and so was I.

Harry rarely leaves the yard; he seems to always be at the door or window, every ready for play or a lap sit. This morning Harry was missing and I am reminded again that there are no guarantees in life or love.

Every time I put a pet “to sleep”, every time a friend dies or a lover decides we’re through, I wonder why I allow myself to care, to be tamed. For taming as the Little Prince explains, is about the time we waste for those we love, it is that investment of time, self and ritual that makes one little boy, one rose, one fox different from the rest.

It’s also what makes losing them so stinking painful!

Where once we could count on that smiling face, the chirp meant just for us, suddenly they’re gone and our broken hearts swear “never again.”

Since the day they arrived, the ferals have been a constant lesson in not holding on. Shortly after Annie and Agnes were released from recovery at my neighbor’s, Agnes disappeared. Annie was heart broken. All through their convalescence Annie and Agnes had slept wrapped around each other, now little Annie was alone in the world. I found Agnes a few days later in the field behind my house, it was not a pretty sight and a friend and I buried her down near the pond. My neighbor was more hurt than I, for it was she who had tended and bonded with Agnes. Annie, survived went on to become the matriarch, she made a new friend in Clyde and now rules the rest of the clan with an iron paw.

       Annie’s buddy Clyde

Annie keeps everyone in line!

Some of the cats became regulars; some occasional visitors, a few disappeared. Janet, Isabella’s shyer sister hasn’t are been seen in months, Kyle, Luke, Nathan, Ollie are gone. I wonder now and then what became of them, hoping they’ve found safe haven elsewhere. They were nice cats I guess, but certainly not tame, not like Harry.

A few months ago, frustrated by the vastness of social networking, I made a commitment to take the time to connect in meaningful ways with the people who have tamed me. Sometimes that’s by phone, sometimes that’s by text and sometimes that’s with real letters. For the most part the response has been positive; my friends have made the effort to meet me at least part way, making time in their busy lives to connect in ways that work for them, it’s the time we waste that makes someone special.

The disappearance of Harry makes me glad I took the time yesterday to play, however briefly and even more glad that I wrote my friend Gael a letter this morning, that tomorrow I go up to Ojo Caliente Hot Springs with Maureen who lives out of town and so I don’t see as often as I like. It’s why I show up on my weekly writers group call and why this Friday I am both excited and afraid to welcome the return to dinner at my house of a friend I’d thought that I’d never see again after he walked out almost 2 years ago.

I hope Harry will show up, because he is my cat and he is unique in all the world, and though I run the risk of crying for letting myself be tamed it’s still a risk I believe is worth taking.

onward and upward,

© C A Crossman and Dancing Through Life with Spirit,2012.

 

 

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