To a cat sitting in the sun

The past week and a half have been…stressful. I feel like time and time again I’ve forgotten something, or I’ve not been as successful as I could’ve been. Maybe it’s the Zoom fatigue. Or maybe it’s the vague sensation of loss, the feeling that, somehow, there is something missing in our ubiquitously digital lives, something that no one has noticed is gone yet. The days seem to pass by as in a flurry, and I am a small raft on the choppy sea, where tide builds insurmountable tide. 

A few days ago, I was walking across the bridge that goes over Calaveras Creek. You know that long soft grass that grows by the banks of the creek? As I was walking, I noticed that there was an orange cat sitting there, pleasantly, smiling almost, as the sun warmed its fur. I realized that there was something to be learned from that cat, and the simplicity of it. I did not know if it was hungry, or alone, or sick. But in that moment, I could without a doubt tell that it was happy. Finding pockets of happiness is important, even if they’re hidden in long, itchy blades of grass. 

The small, happy moments in our lives deserve better than to be clouded over by troubles. If anything, they deserve to be lived independently of the rest of the negativity that surrounds us. And so today, I walked out across the creek again and I noticed the sunlight. There was a couple walking by with a pair of huskies. And when the man in the golf cart waved to me, I waved back. I think it is important to recognize that there are moments that are uniquely our own, moments that are necessarily joyful. There are moments that we ought to bask in unashamedly, like an orange cat taking in the sun by Calaveras Creek.