This is Mama Cat. I adopted her about three years ago when I moved back to Nashville. She got her name, because she came to my house with a litter of day-old kittens. (The rescue didn't know she was pregnant until they took her to get spayed, and realized she was about to give birth.) I always meant to name her something else, but Mama Cat just stuck.
She disappeared one day in early March. I kept telling myself maybe she was still alive. Maybe some neighbor found her, didn't realize she had a home and kept her in their house? Maybe she was just feral now, living up on the top of the ridge on the property?
I tried not to let my mind wander to the bad maybes, but whenever I would mention to anyone how long it had been since I had seen her, they would always say that she was dead. They would assume a coyote. I guess I had sort of resigned myself to the fact that she was probably gone. Maybe she had gotten sick and went into the woods to die? I had no clue.
Then the phone rang at 6:30am this morning. My neighbor said there was a strange cat in her front yard that she thought looked like my cat that was missing. I threw on my farm boots and went running over. It was Mama Cat! I couldn't believe my eyes. It was like seeing a ghost. She had been gone for over five months! I am a little in shock, but so glad to know she is okay. This morning, I didn't expect anything particularly interesting to happen, and something that had seemed absolutely impossible happened! Life is amazing.
In yoga class yesterday, the instructor kept reminding us to honor the transitions or rests between poses as poses themselves. She asked us to give them just as much attention and focus as we gave to the pose we just came out of, and the pose we were about to go into next. I almost army crawled off of my mat to go find a pencil and some paper to write that down. It is hard to stay patient in the middle of transition. It is really challenging to stay present, and not think about the past or be too anxious for whatever might come next. I'm constantly trying to honor this process and stay present through it, but there are definitely times when I wish I could just hurry up and get to the next phase of my life.
For me, when I'm mid-transition, it feels like the transition will neeeeeever end. But I know it does...and the strange thing about transitions is that they usually end silently, completely unnoticed. They sneak out the back door without a word, and then one day you're doing something totally mundane, like sitting in a cafe, eating lunch in the sunshine and you realize you're so completely content in that moment. Then it hits you out of nowhere, "YES! I'm in a moment right now that is so perfect, and I would have never been sitting here in this perfect moment if it hadn't been for all of that change. Ok. I get it. That is over. I made it to this. I'm grateful for both." Then, a big sigh of relief. I can remember specific moments when this happened for me. One was at a cafe in Prague. Another was while I was floating in the Sea of Cortez at night, looking up at the stars. There have definitely been others, but those were the two most powerful for me so far.
I had completely forgotten about this song until I stumbled across another song of Gabe's that a friend had posted on Facebook tonight. I used to listen to it every single morning during a six month stretch of my life when everything was in extreme transition. I was scared. I had already decided to move to Tucson to get my MFA in Poetry. I was quitting a job I loved. My relationship at the time (which I had been in off and on for about four years) was ending. My landlord was selling the house I lived in several months before I was supposed to move, so I was actually temporarily moving into the guest room at my ex-boyfriend's house....for the first time we were living together, except we weren't together. Ack!
Nothing was happening the way I had imagined or planned. It was all out of order and awkward and uncomfortable. I felt out of place. I had no clue what my life was going to be like. I was worried I was making a huge mistake by leaving. I was trying to trust that I somehow knew what I was doing, and that I would reach a point where the transition was over. This song helped reinforce that feeling each day. I got to Tucson. I kept listening to this song for several more months. I would listen to music and walk for hours every morning and every evening. I always ended the walk with this song. Eventually, I got to the end of that transition. Life made more sense than it ever had before. I was happy. I will arrive at the end of this transition someday too. Tonight, I am grateful for the lesson in this song....again.
"All will be well,
Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself.
All will be well.
You can ask me how,
but only time will tell."
-Gabe Dixon
Check out some more about my talented friend, Gabe Dixon, on his website here.
"Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."
— Rumi
This was on the charming little back patio at Caruso's Italian restaurant in Tucson, AZ. My parents asked what I wanted for my birthday. What I really wanted was to take some of my friends out to dinner, so they picked up the bill. It was one of the best birthday presents I've ever received. Thankful for Mom & Dad for always entertaining my odd ideas & for these faces. I miss them. A lot.
Blogging from Bongo Java East. I have a few minutes to kill before a yoga class. I'm trying to decide how to spend the big birthday that is coming up. I had these grand ideas earlier in the year about spending it on a lovely beach somewhere or in some amazing country I've always wanted to see. Finances aren't going to allow for anything grand, unless the winning lottery ticket blows into my mailbox in the next 5 weeks, so I'm starting to think of more realistic 30th birthday plans. I don't know why, but I feel like I need to have a plan for that day. I guess my fear is that it will sneak up on me and I won't be able to find anything to do, end up alone at my house, eating a frozen pizza in my wedding dress, crying into a glass of wine and talking to my cat, Stinky. Or something. I refuse to let this type of scenario happen. I will celebrate this birthday! Here are a few of the options in no particular order:
a) Ray Lamontagne concert. I love him. Love him. Always have. The last concert of his I went to was years ago....the night I met Aaron, actually. Going to see him again on my 30th birthday seems like it would bring this intense phase of my life (that began that night) full circle, and bookend the whole mess with some beautiful music.
b) Meditation retreat. This starts on Sept 21 in Hot Springs, Arkansas and lasts 3 days. I went on one earlier this year & loved it. Something about doing this during my actual birthday seems appropriate and healthy...but it also involves coming up with some money.
c) My amigo Sam & I have discussed having a joint birthday fiesta. His birthday is on Sept 19th. Mine is the 21st. Possibly a little wine tasting at Arrington Vineyards with some food out on the big porch. This would probably happen on a weekend before/after. People could just come and go as they please. This could happen in combination with anything else on this list.
d) My best friend lives in Santa Rosa, CA. That is not close to Nashville and is a constant dilemma. She is going to be in Indiana the week of my birthday though! We've talked about meeting half way. Seeing her, her husband and her son would make my heart very happy.
Ok, better get over to yoga before they lock the door! More posts later today.
"Each day, accept everything that comes to you as a gift. At night, mentally give it all back. In this way, you become free."
-Daniel Levin
(My photo from this morning's hike. 8/8/11. I noticed them as I was trucking along on the trail because of the way the light was falling on them. They looked like teeny tiny trees. I sat down in the middle of the path and took this photo. Maybe they are teeny tiny trees. I don't know, but they sure looked pretty.)
This is Mama Cat. I adopted her about three years ago when I moved back to Nashville. She got her name, because she came to my house with a litter of day-old kittens. (The rescue didn't know she was pregnant until they took her to get spayed, and realized she was about to give birth.) I always meant to name her something else, but Mama Cat just stuck. 
