As I greet the new day, flinging back blinds and opening windows, letting in the morning light and fresh new morning breath, Boo and Scout seek the first patches of sunshine streaking across the floor. They follow it at the sides of chairs and beds. Across the laptop. Next to the screen door. Filtering onto the carpet. Like mini heat-seekers they pounce on the instant warmth that immediately blisses them into a zen state of ecstazzzzzzzzzz’s. Watching them, I can’t help feeling a twinge of envy at how easily they seem to find what makes them happy and immerse themselves in it without a moment’s hesitation.
Why can’t I be more “cat-like” and let myself enjoy the comforting pleasure of a simple patch of sun—even if for a few minutes? Setting aside all the “shoulds” and “gotta-do’s” and lists upon lists of all that I expect of myself to accomplish from dawn to dusk. How good would it be to just allow myself the decadence of purposelessness? The tingling sensation of simply stretching and curling, rolling and yawning into a lazy clump—grabbing a small piece of early a.m. rays before they vanish from each room into the day like a bride gathering the silken train of her gown. Comfort should be as easy to embrace as the way in which Boo and Scout savor such peaceful purrrrsuits. My two favorite Nature Teachers are teaching me to paws upon the instantaneous joy of self-indulgence—one sunbeam at a time…
