Someone Else’s Cat and Other Thoughts
I am going
to begin with a poem.
Ode to Simon
Friend
Ode
to Simon
Companion
Ode
to Simon
Partner
Thank
you.
Our
life is filled with circumstances, things happen, friends walk in, walk out,
heading to wherever they came from. I have yet to figure out the time frame and
just maybe I don’t want to know. A lot has been going on in the small circles
of being, regarding individuals I know of, care about and love. Even in my own
smaller space where I was hit hard on Monday with throwing up, fever and not
eating for several days. I am better,
more thankful than ever and working harder on blessing every molecule in my
body. Eating real food has never been so
good. As to the short poem, it is given with love to my friend. If we are
lucky, we get a chance to say Thank you.
I
am happy with my life. I am happy with
my husband. So in part on this Father’s
Day, I wish to acknowledge the truth of being blessed with the goodness of this
glorious being in my life. Remember in
the title of this blog, I did mention other thoughts. You will be getting a lot of them but you can
take a coffee or tea break, return to a good book or head out for a meditative
walk. The key is to stop for a moment,
take several breaths and say Thank You. Notice
that both the words, Thank and You are capitalized. Use your inner self, pay
attention and let it flow. No, I did not say play video games, watch a movie,
or zone out on your phone. However, you
can Facebook briefly if you are inclined to read this.
I
find things daily in the world giving me reason to take pause, and either break
down crying, weeping for everything happening to the life on this planet or I
can laugh with joy, feel pleasure and happiness for everything happening with
the life on this planet. I am nearly
repeating myself but there is a difference. I can concentrate on sadness, or
exude with enthusiasm every miracle I hear, see and feel. I can laugh when the opportunity presents itself. I like that one, laughter is healing. The pealing laughter of a child is a
testimony to the power of laughter. My heart fills up every time I am gifted
with the sound. So laugh, even if you
have to fake it out at first.
I
was offered a moment to laugh at myself just the other day. I was searching for my alarm clock. In the morning, I turn the clock off, head to
bathroom, set it on the counter so I can see how much time I have left when I
am bathing, brushing my teeth, etc. It
is what I have done, what my husband has done for years. You might say we have it down like
clockwork. I know, forgive me. But did I mention that I am feeling
better.
My
husband has been in rehearsal this week for an upcoming play so I have been home
alone. I work on preparing myself for
bed with some reading, watching Netflix and finally, getting undressed and
redressed for bed and when I was ready, I reached for the clock on the counter
in the bathroom until well, it wasn’t there. I looked twice, thrice and agreed with
myself the clock was missing. I even
moved several brown paper rolls left from the toilet paper just in case, it was
hiding amidst the four rolls sitting there. Nope, I was being frustrated and in
my defense, I was still recuperating from being sick so my attention span was
not good.
I
decided to look in the other rooms thinking my husband might have placed the
little black clock somewhere else. I checked the main bedroom, the blue bedroom
and headed to look under piles of dirty socks in the other bedroom. The socks are left to cover the clock at
night as its insistent tick, tick, ticking is a hindrance to my falling
asleep. No clock, I wandered into the
kitchen, walked to the dining table with its piles and piles of books,
newspapers, both opened and unopened mail, and a jigsaw puzzle. I flipped over
newspapers, fingered and moved books until I sighed and gave up again. I believe in black holes. I believe in moments in which the universe
twitches and things I want to find disappear until the proper amount of time to
reach a certain frustration level has been obtained. But I also believe in angels. I do asked them for help in locating my
stuff, to retrieve it from whatever black hole it has hopped into. I forgot to do this on this particular
day. Remember, fuzzy head, not thinking
clearly from Monday’s day of doom.
I
gave up, and still wondering where the man, my husband had hidden the clock I
went to the bathroom to pee. I have a
wonderful little window in the bathroom.
It looks out at my red rhododendrons and multi-colored roses of golden
yellows and orange. As I sat upon the toilet, my friend of Monday’s fun and
games, I heard a tick. I went still. I
held my breath. Tick. Where? Tick.
I gazed down at my feet at the heavy green towel which my husband had
placed on the floor for my worshiping pose on Monday. Then I remember. My bath one morning with the window open. The
quiet of the house broken by the birds singing and the tick, tick of the clock
which I stuffed in the towel so I could hear the birds. Oh, joy.
I
did confess to my husband the blame I had placed on him, regarding the
clock. His comment, “Yes, I am guilty.” He is so wise.
I
think this was a final way of healing my body, a small misadventure to cause me
to laugh at the clock, to laugh at myself and to laugh with my husband. Most of what happens is a gift of some sort
to ourselves. The real gift and challenge is finding it somehow.
