Someone Else's Cat and Other Thoughts

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.