Three Blessings

and another furry

Photo by Illiya Vjestica on Unsplash

Sprawled on the living room carpet I twist and stretch, releasing the day’s tension from my lower back, hips, and shoulders. I let it build too far today, increasing from a tightness to a sharp pain when I bend over. These are the parts of my body that I force to carry my stress. I feel the emotions seeping back in as I loosen my hips, transitioning finally from “go” to “flow.”¹ I almost want to cry, it’s too much: harvesting, projects to finish before the weather turns, homeschooling, co-op classes and managerial stuff I’m not used to yet, the emotional upheaval of my sister’s upcoming wedding, a rabbit that’s been sick for months, two boy cats having pissing matches all over the house, transitioning back into my husband’s busy school year schedule, the ongoing struggle to heal and evolve myself into someone who can calmly handle life without breaking down or shutting down, and now on top of all that…the universe has gifted me a special needs kitten.

For One Who Is Exhausted

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight. 

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will. 

Weariness invades your spirit. 
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone. 

The tide you never valued has gone out, 
And you are marooned on unsure ground. 
Something within you has closed down; 
And you cannot push yourself back to life. 

You have been forced to enter empty time. 
The desire that drove you has relinquished. 
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather. 
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you. 

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back. 

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through. 

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free. 

Imitate the habit of twilight, 
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day. 

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you. 
Be excessively gentle with yourself. 

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit. 
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world. 

Gradually, you will return to yourself, 
Having learned a new respect for your heart 
And the joy that dwells far within slow time. 

He’s the color of a sweet potato chiffon pie, with topaz eyes that are old for a kitten of perhaps four months (unsurprising, considering he was in fairly rough shape when he found us), yet they are deep and calm and utterly trusting. Confined to the bathroom until we can get him cleared by a vet and get his intestinal and ear mite problems under control (and convince our boys that another little brother is a good idea and not the betrayal their eyes are accusing me of), he’s surprisingly quiet and content. Rena made him a little cave out of a box and he’s happy to oblige her by sleeping in it. Whenever one of us pops in to check on him he remains underfoot demanding attention until we leave. It took less than 24 hours for those eyes—and the way his little paws knead the air, reaching, reaching reaching for me—to completely unravel my heart. I hadn’t planned on another kitten; I had planned on taking him to the nearest shelter today but they wouldn’t take him, I have no idea how to juggle this furry curve ball along with everything else…but those eyes. The color of my birth stone. Maybe this was meant to be.