Archie is providing for his family – a mole for me, a mouse for husband and a squirrel for Xena. He is loving lock down and is still keeping up the war for territory around these parts. Nothing much has changed in the little Tomcat’s routine, except that he has added serious hunting to it. Xena isn’t too sure about this development and she is circling her bed until the squirrel is removed.
Our furry family can feel the change. And they adapt accordingly. Xena only ventures outside if a human joins her. She is loving the company but cannot get her head around the lack of walks. Isolation has a way of honing our human instincts too. Mine are to get my nest in order, fill up my gift boxes for after lock down and move all my work online. Time seems to stretch these days and I’m enjoying the attention to detail it’s encouraging. Yes, fear and sadness hang in the atmosphere. But there is also an air of expectation, a longing for the new normal to begin.
Connections deepen and true friendships stand up to the light. Mindfulness is no longer an ‘out there’ concept. Emotions are becoming real. There is no man-made busyness to hide behind. Masks are being dropped and real faces appear, some for the first time in many years. Being fake is no longer okay and big egos are deflating along with bank balances. There is no one to blame and no one is excluded. Sharing what we have is becoming the new way to behave. Being grateful for all our blessings, despite the virus war we’re a part of, is also easier in this slower world.
So I sound a bit Polly-Anna-ish… But I am still on my Xeloda tablets and the side effects are really kicking in now. My journey with cancer is ongoing. The corona virus on top of it, is a bit of a double whammy, I’ll admit. And yet my heart and soul tell me that some good will come out of it all. I’ll be a changed person. The world will be a new one, in divine timing. Once we have grieved for our lost ones and accepted the status quo, there will be a way forward.
Archie is adamant that the one window which is jammed shut, should be seen to. His entrances and exits are seamless, barring that irritating barrier. His egg yolk (no white remember,) is waiting for him and I lift it up so that he can see it. “Come around,” I call. Archie stands his ground for a little longer. I throw my arms in the air. “I can’t open it, boy.” He doesn’t move…until it’s abundantly clear that I won’t fulfill his wishes.
Archie’s spirit is indomitable. Our human spirits are too. So is Mother Earth and she deserves a fresh beginning as much as we do.