How I wish I were a cat. It seems like life would be a bit easier. The tigress of the suburban sprawl, lion of the late purple evenings and conqueror of the dawn. Simplifying to the extreme — food, shelter, adventure, and lots of slowness. I would get called from my corner of the shadows by those who are passing by just so that they could give me a soothing stroke along my spine. 

Perhaps I would circle around them once or twice, rubbing those hard to reach places on their fingertips and purring every once and again so that they know just where I like it. I wish it were, living the lifestyle of a fuzzy kitten that finds joy in playfulness.

Maybe then I wouldn’t care so much about the extra feelings that circle around in my head. Whirling thoughts of potential, of possibilities and fantasies. I could simply dedicate myself to the flows of the sun’s arch along my sky. I could slow down and appreciate the moment. Those feelings of prickly cement along my body, heated up from the long day’s brightness and blues.

I could take a nap there for many hours, not noticing the descent behind the trees. The cars might pass me by, coming and going, but I remain in my warmth, sprawled out and continuing to stretch in without moving locations. Still finding the sunlight. I’m sure that there are particles of dirt and some tiny rocks wedged underneath the fur as it mats down, but I don’t care. I’ll still reach my arms forward and then my legs back as I get up and move towards the homes and among the weeds, getting lost in the neighborhood jungles.

I want the adventure of the night, the darkness of the sky that a new moon brings with stars twinkling above. No birds out to play with, their flitting wings and melodic queries. In the black, behind the unknown, anything is possible. I can wander in the bushes, underneath patio furniture and try out new zig zag dances, exploring new territories.

I would like to just settle into the lap of another when I’m ready to be pet. Getting close and cuddling up, the world would be a bit sweeter in those moments of connection. Nothing required, nothing forced. It happens naturally when the time has come to just be still. We can be together. 

The lifestyle of a cat is seductive. Immediate presence, outside of the thoughts that whirl. Guided just enough by the independence of an open day ahead and an explorative night, my body and my curiosity become the motivators. I go with the fluidity of my senses and stay between my eyes, engaged in the moment’s excitement and also its relaxation.

How wonderful it would be to just settle down. The day is exactly as I want it – and it doesn’t need to be preplanned, to be productive, nor to be filled with futuristic purpose. It’s simply about enjoying my own company, the company of others, and seeing what is out there to observe. It’s just enough.

I wish to slink about hardwood floors and jump lightly onto made beds for an afternoon slumber in the warm sun. I want to be approached with a soft hand and a gentle snuggle, my body pulled in close to another’s to flow with the breath and the heartbeat. 

I can imagine the softness and the needlessness for words. I can transmit my love with a few single purrs that flow with the breath. It would be easier then, just to quiet down and turn on my prowl. There’s much to be learned in the slowness and the gentle observation of a feline. With a calm repose, I could take it all for exactly what it is. Yeah, the life of a green-eyed sphinx sounds good to me.