Time to Let Sleeping Cats Lie

Number 24 out of 28: This piece is part a Blog Challenge to write and publish a post, every day of the 28 days of February 2015, from Coach and Writer Sandra Peachey – the author of ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’.

GandS Oct 13

George & Sophia, sweetly snoozing…

One afternoon, after a delicious snooze on my sofa, I awoke to find George as always, sweetly and soundly asleep at my side.  Coming to, I realised that I had lost sight of my mobile phone.  After groping around in all the usual crevices that like to suck my most wanted possessions into their insidious vortexes, I was still none the wiser.

So I grabbed the land line and dialled my mobile.  I was relieved to hear it ring almost instantly.  But the ringing did not come from a telephone, it came instead, from my cat.

George had turned into a giant ring tone.  Like a mothering hen, he was cradling the warm digital device under his soft stomach, and I so snatched my precious ‘egg’ from under him, laughing out very loud as I did so.  Startled out of his very important sleep, George was clearly not amused.  How dare I: a) disturb him and in such an uncouth manner and b) ridicule him for his kindly tea-cosying of my telecommunications handset??

He gave me such a look of haughty distain that I then felt impelled to use the camera on the phone to capture that perfect moment of affront, and here is the resulting picture…

Far be it from me to deliberately disturb a cat’s self satisfied sleep.  In reality I am so much better at doing that to myself thank you very much.

My head is a busy one, certainly busier than my body.  Life is often hectic and fast, but I’m not so sure that I am.  I remember a younger version of me who was always on the move, on the run, organising social events, keeping busy, always with a short boredom threshold, looking for variety, for change.

I would run home from a long day at work: eat, have a bath, get changed and dash out again, night after night, weekend after weekend.  Desperately being any where but in my head and heart.  The trouble was, that I always took them with me…

But now, I’ve slowed down; may be it’s middle age, maybe it’s a realisation that back in my mad gypsy days, I didn’t like to stop and think and feel and face up to myself.

So back then, I’d often have a single cat companion, a constant in my life, someone to come home to, because oddly, despite all my running around, I’ve always known I’m a little home bird too.  Well, that’s me, truly contradictory.

And now I give in to the lazy – to the sweet neutrality of doing nothing, bugger all, sweet F.A.

Let’s start with sleeping, in common with cats I’m really good at it.  It is definitely one of my real talents.  My head will hit the pillow and I’ll be gone, cradled in the arms of Morpheus until morning. And Morpheus morphs into a form of morphine, it is a drug – too little and I’m light headed and divorced from the world, too much and I have a hang over of excess heaviness.

But cats some how have the balance right.  Did I say balance?!  In their case sleep is the majority of their daily activity.  Apparently they sleep for two thirds of their lives.  As a lover of sweet sleep I so envy a cat’s ability to nap with such constant certainty and consistency.

And there I am, of an evening, awake and possibly alert, sitting in my living room, when silently and suddenly I find that I am surrounded by three snoozing felines of various hues.

George is nearly always besides me, my constant guardian, whilst opposite us, Taz occupies the right hand side and Sophia has carved the left hand side of the other sofa, as her own soft sleeping place.

Often I’m not even aware that they have even entered the room, and then I look up and a quiet threesome of zizzing cats will just be there, insinuated, and all curled up, like a scatter of perfect tight commas, sharing the sofas with each other and with me.

There is an infinite perfection in the curl of a sleeping cat. A gorgeous, soft circle, in the aligned circumference of head, body, limbs, paws and then tail.  And after a while the circle gently unfurls, and stretches out into contented poses of bodied out bliss.

If you have ever practised Yoga or Tai Chi or any form of slow enervated movement that allows you to stretch into a calm coming together of body and stilled mind; then you will, just about, start to appreciate the unrestrained, pure pleasure of a cat reaching out to the Universe to express its’ sheer and utter surrender to the simple ecstasy of its own soul felt and physical existence.

Ah yes, nearly all the cats I know are smugly at one with their place on this planet and completely ‘into’ their bodies.

And taking all this into consideration – if sleeping sweetly and smugly was an Olympic event, this species would win the Gold medal, paws down, without fault, a perfect ten, every single time…

PS: Did you know that a collection of my ‘Peachey Letters’ have been gathered together in to a beautiful book, cats and all?  I’m completely biased of course, but it makes a purrfect present, whether you be a cat lover or no.  All of human life is in this gorgeous book – all the fear, light, dark, and of course love, for any one who wants to be entertained and to know that they are not alone in life, what ever it holds for you, even if it isn’t all about cats… You can buy ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’ from book websites any where in the world, including Amazon (in both Paperback and Kindle)

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