Poetry/Prose

Never Hide, Except

Pasha

Pasha

This morning, in my quite-minimal apartment, Pasha found a new hiding place. I looked everywhere, walked around calmly, calling his name.

Have grown too old to panic when I lose connections, or beings in my life, or things anymore, but a numbness takes over as I search and search in vain. Indeed, I looked (seemingly) EVERYWHERE for him.

I knelt on the carpet, thinking of him, all he means to me. Wondering if somehow he had flown away–or if this was when aliens would finally be discovered!

Knowing he was somewhere but where? Left there alone only to be quiet and think.

Space and time have a reason: I thought of his essence, the highlight/lowlight times we had shared in silence, completely merged in the moment, resting in satisfaction. His playfulness. All his good qualities. A person and a cat–boiling life down to what matters.

Then I walked past the bathroom and remembered one, last possible (and of course weird) place. And he was there. It wasn’t like in the movies–no music to herald our reunion or sappy “Oh my God I thought I lost you!”s

Nah. I just looked at him, touched his offered, and slightly portly belly and my whole body relaxed. It doesn’t have to be dramatic to be real.

And there were a couple insights I thought worth sharing: Cats (to those who love them) are master teachers.

I.e., Everyone needs to hide away at times, to go where nobody could possibly find them, at least for a little bit of time, to go inside themselves to a treasure chest of pure energy, life force (prana/breath) that is theirs alone, so they can slo-mo set foot on their birthright trampoline bounce … and this helps those around them, too, to recognize them, make sense of them, because the fastest way I have experienced to be deeply recognized (if there was anything for someone to recognize at all) is to vanish.

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