Eleven years ago, I moved from Washington, DC to New Jersey, my two sweet cats in tow, Cleocatra, then seven and Sasha, then six. It was a tumultuous move for all of us. My cats, like most, hating the disruption; me, sad to leave beloved friends and a city I had called home for nearly 20 years. But it was perhaps hardest on Sasha. She alternated between loud crying and mewing the whole gray, drizzly ride here. I realized too late that I should have sedated her. Upon arrival at our new place, I went to free Cleo and Sash from their carriers, but by then Sasha was literally catatonic and unwilling to come out.
When she finally did emerge, after movers were gone and the three of us were left to wander among our boxed belongings and furniture, she was both scared and furious. She had never been prone to jumping, but I started to find her on high surfaces—the top of a high set of shelves in the bedroom, the top of the refrigerator, atop a four-foot marble ledge in the bathroom. Communication from her was reduced to growling and hissing. I was bereft. Had I broken this beautiful, sweet, loving soul?
While I tried to coax her to calm, offering treats and assurances to no avail, Cleo simply sat still and let her hiss and snarl at her, never engaging or taking flight. She stayed close when Sasha clearly wanted nothing to do with her. It took a few days, but I came home one afternoon from an errand to find the two cats on the bed, Sasha nestled into Cleo just as she had always done.
I recently had an elective surgery that brought a widespread surge of support from a network of friends, family, and colleagues near and far, each person providing me with something the same and something different from the other in the form of steadfast love and encouragement and, in some cases, practical assistance. It has been humbling, to say the least. I have been reminded anew of how presence is anything but simple or insignificant. It is often the most loving, holy act we can do for one another. Just ask the divine Cleocatra and Sasha, still beaming their steady light in my world.
May the light and comfort of loving presence and the fount of gratitude that springs from it be yours. Happy Thanksgiving days one and all.
Divine Ready 