Things Said and Unsaid

Yesterday morning on my bike ride I had one of those mundane moments that reveal such eternal truth it almost takes your breath away. Making the left turn into a short cul-de-sac, I saw a cat stretched out on the driveway. In my best, high-pitched voice I spoke my heart, “Hello, Kitty!!!”

Every rotation of the bike’s tires revealed deep yearning for a close encounter of the cat kind. Since 2000, I had cat energy in my life weekly, when I was in Kalamazoo at Joel’s home. The current generation of cats: Bobbie, McGee, and Zeus, were adopted into a new home after Joel was moved to a memory-care facility in Tennessee late this spring.

Loss of Joel’s intellect, his collaboration, his witness to my birth as a writer was entwined with the loss of the satiating love of cat.

During the winters in Florida, I would go to Great Licks Ice Cream Parlor, to pet the cat. Many a morning bike ride took me to St. James City Automotive, home of Sonny, who would enjoy the affection so much he would forget to swallow – dripping drool all over himself and me and the floor. (See Sonny in “Fingers on Fur” from 2018.)

A few days ago, my sister posted on Facebook: There is no greater earthly privilege than to have been loved by a cat. My comment on her post was this emoji with a cat on my head.

A lively conversation with a dharma sister about the nuance that unconditional love is probably really unconditionED love has opened my heart to so much truth these past days. This morning I was led to a Yellow Brick Road blog post from on February 17, 2019. In that post “Acceptance” I feel a sacred circle of truth: Saying exactly what you need will allow a new pattern to emerge. Be willing to say it gently over and over until the new pattern is stable.

Circling that cul-de-sac I could feel the grasping for that cat encounter. In my head was a tug-of-war about stopping or not stopping. Approaching the driveway from the other direction, I still did not know if I was going to stop and approach the cat.

As my subtle energy began making the turn away from the drive, that voice called out, “Have a great day, Kitty!”

Then and only then, did my awareness expand and notice that the kitty was not the only four-legged in that driveway: A robust German Shepherd had been lying on the asphalt a few feet away from the cat!!!!

So many times in life grasping or aversion have dictated words said or unsaid.

One New Years Eve, somewhere about 1980, my resolution was to every day say to Stacey, “I love you”….

Be willing to say it gently over and over until the new pattern is stable.

Be willing to say it gently over and over until the new pattern is stable.

Be willing to say it gently over and over until the new pattern is stable.