Monday feels like an assault to my senses this morning. I do not feel like jumping back into life as I knew it, like it was just any other day.
I know it is the only way. It is right and it is good.
I just miss my little black kitty. That's all.
His junior partner in cathood did his best version of snuggling up beside me before I crawled out of bed this morning. He even laid still while I petted him. In fact, he rolled over on his back so I could scratch his belly (I think he is part dog).
I'm still breathing in the cat hair he shed, but he helped me greet a day I didn't want to face.
Life goes on.
I have become so hermit-like lately I have forgotten what wonders lie outside of our doors.
I stepped in for a missing dance partner, at the dance studio where I used to take lessons, Friday night. Once I got over the shock and discomfort of being so far out of my element, I was amused and entertained by "people".
I am not too sure how long I've been wearing these blinders but I forgot how interesting it can be to meet up with new people.
It was hard. I couldn't wait to leave. But there were many moments of enjoyment while I stepped out of my comfortable life at home and into my most uncomfortable dance shoes.
I used to have so much fun while I was dancing that my feet didn't hurt until I took off my shoes and went home. Friday night, every single footfall hurt.
Every forward step hurt. It is so symbolic of how my heart, body and soul feel lately.
I do hope that this is part of a mourning process I have been walking through in the days, weeks and months when I realized our ailing senior cat's days were coming close to an end.
My heart is so tender right now. Perhaps that is why I don't enjoy facing the world outside of these protective walls of our home.
There is so much sadness, illness and loss out there. Inside our home, there have been so very many moments of pure joy and so much of that has been centered around our little cat family.
People are complicated. Cats are a tad bit mysterious too. It's just lately? I prefer the company of my little cat (and human) family over the great adventures that lie outside of these doors.
I guess I will have to peel back the layers and find my "inner Andre". My little black kitty, who could not wait to dash out of these doors to meet and greet the world around him, befriend enemies, make his way through the neighborhood and come home when he was good and ready, is a good role model.
I'm too scared to wander far. But maybe I should start gazing out the window and dreaming of some new adventures.