Most of the time my imagination runs wild and I don’t keep track of all the times its gone into crevices I didn’t know existed.
Lying in bed with a sore throat that makes me sound like a 100-year-old smoker. On the floor my hound dog gnaws on an elk antler chewing like she’s going to strike gold. My husband’s new flavour of the week indie band plays throughout the house and it’s a repetitive beat with a tired singer who probably lives in New York feeling amazing that his efforts have brought him to the mecca of music.
Downstairs the washer is making a noise I don’t recognize and I’m too tired to go check. Please let it be fine. If I have to call the landlord to look that means I have to clean up, and I’m too damn weak to get up nevertheless clean up to my standards.
My ginger fat boy comes to see me and he purrs while he settles in next to me. With one orange paw on my arm he looks into my eyes and I wish for one minute to have his wisdom. It’s okay momma. It’s okay live in the now.
I listen to my cat and try to find my zen place while his purring guides me.