So you already know my most exciting news, which is that I have a new cat! For those of you who don’t know the story, I’ll tell it because it turns out to be significant to other developments in my life.
I have been contemplating the whole pet thing for several months now. Should I get pet? If yes: dog or cat? I started wanting a pet when I realized that I wasn’t going to get pregnant just because I decided I was ready. Every month that I get my period has been increasingly emotional for me. I stayed on the fence for a long time, conflicted about the commitment of being a pet owner. When I left WineShopper the desire increased since now I am home alone all day and John gets home anywhere between eight and midnight. Not to mention, I am back in the same position that made me anxious and depressed before—work uncertainty. Yes, I do still feel that I am equipped this go around to manage the experience and my emotions, but a furry security blanket still helps.
John had been favoring a dog, but when my birthday came around he announced that he wanted to give me a cat. I had a very specific cat in mind. I had even cut out a magazine picture of “my cat” a few months back and had been carrying it around in my day timer. I imagined an all grey, female cat, young, but not a kitten and SUPER friendly. Never once, until I was on my way to the shelter, did it occur to me that I wouldn’t find my exact cat. Driving to the shelter on my birthday, for a fleeting moment, I stopped to consider the ridiculousness of my expectations. I thought about prioritizing my wish list, but that was as far as I got. I arrived, went in, told the front desk I was there to adopt a cat—then instantly felt overwhelmed. Shelters are depressing and intense. Walking past the cages of dogs I decided the whole thing was a bad idea, but I felt committed to at least pretend to check out a few cats before leaving. There were a dozen rooms with at least a dozen cages each. I tentatively opened the first door and immediately the cat in the first cage stood up and started meowing and rubbing against the bars. She was all grey, female and exactly a year old. Someone had recently dropped her off because their new landlord didn’t allow cats. Nervous, I asked to take her out. She climbed instantly up on my shoulder, started nuzzling and purring in my ear. After three minutes I announced that I wanted to adopt her and didn’t look at another cat. I named her Harley because of her ridiculously loud and constant purr. She is totally awesome and I can’t believe I never looked for her sooner. She is fabulous company and follows me from room to room. She snuggles and sleeps on my lap or chest any time I’m still. Mellow and loving, she is definitely more than just a cat to me, she feels like a life line; a security blanket I can love whenever I start to feel unstable or scared.
The cat is a great metaphor for my work. I had a very clear and specific vision, one I never questioned or doubted, and lo and behold—I manifested it. The first two weeks after WineShopper I did a lot of informational interviewing. I was considering education and grant writing most seriously. The day after my birthday I went on an interview and was offered a job. I was overqualified, but it could have been an ideal apprenticeship in education and grant writing. I was thinking that grant writing would be perfect bread and butter work for me and that if I got involved in education I could work my way into doing something with adolescent girls and role models. I turned the job down. I realized that (a) I shouldn’t take another job I am overqualified for, and (b) neither education or grant writing actually feels right. So now I’m back to honing my vision, with the belief that clearly and specifically identifying what I want is the first step in manifesting.