, , , , , , ,

Image5catsYesterday, I wrote:  “Both of my cats proved Spiritual Law to me — what you give you receive.” I wasn’t surprised when after I published my post, I read my Course in Miracles Lesson for the day and it was: “Today I learn the law of love; that what I give my brother is my gift to me.”

My spiritual life seems to put me between either “Do nothing” or “Fly”. Doing nothing doesn’t mean just sitting on my butt — it means if I’m not sure what to do about a job or relationship or financial decision then I should do nothing different. I’ve noticed after the “doing nothing” part often when it’s time to make my move it comes in a flurry of activity. It is like flying.

blurryfoxcarFor this post we need to back up a week to the blurry fox. I spotted just the head of a fox behind a bush. If I tried to get out of the car for the photo — it would take off. So I told my dad to stop the car. Taking the picture in the car meant angling the shot around my dad — under the visor which was down — over the steering wheel — around the rearview mirror and through the dirty window. I finally had the shot lined up. My dad was focused on the fox. blurryfox2The fox moved so Dad hit the gas to follow. The camera tried to adjust to the motion — didn’t go so well.

My dad felt bad. I told him not to worry about it. It was the adventure that counted.

This week I didn’t feel like getting out of bed — eating breakfast — taking photos. If you read my previous post(s) my kitty and spiritual teacher Nox died quite unexpectedly. I realized that doing nothing didn’t mean canceling breakfast with my dad. That would be wallowing in my sorrow. In order to get to the flying part — I need to do nothing differently. Before I left I said a little pray to Nox that she was going to need to give an assist if I was going to make it through the next few hours as a semi-pleasant person. I wasn’t very chirpy and when Dad suggested we do our usual route for photos I said, “Sure.”

lighthouseThe first photo stop it was cloudy and my batteries died. I got back in the car and decided to go to the next stop. I walked to the lake. When I was almost there, I heard BOOM BOOM. And the birds flew away from the duck hunters. We headed to our third stop and my dad noticed the snowbanks and probably my sad mood and said “Let’s not stop.” I looked at the very end of the parking lot there was a space with no snowbank and I could see big waves on the lake. I felt drawn to go there. It’s a big parking lot and my dad went to pull over in the middle as usual — I said, “No all the way to the end.” Not wanting another blurry fox photo he complied by driving to the far end and stopped in front of the “No Parking Sign”.

Our conversation then went something like this:

“Don’t move.”

“Why. What do you see?” His hand reaching to put the car in park.

“Don’t move. Do nothing.”

He looked out the window at what I was seeing just feet in front of our bumper. “Do you want the window down? No. No window down. I’m not putting the car in park. I’m not putting the window down. I’m doing nothing.”

As my dad kept reminding himself to do nothing, I kept snapping photos as the deer walked closer to our car and about two feet from our bumper they had a snack. And slowly walked off toward the path–  toward the waves that had drawn me in in the first place.

My dad had done a great job “doing nothing” with the deer while I “flew”. I told him to pick the way home. He decided to go down a road we’ve had a few adventures and at the last minute, changed his mind and went home on the highway. Almost home the two vehicles in front of us were tapping their breaks for no apparent reason. My dad pulled over. Turkeys were walking across the 4-lane highway. A bunch made it safely and then a second group tried. A car came flying by and a turkey went flying up into the air. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt. The turkey walked back to the other side where a few other turkeys kept trying to cross by walking and were almost getting hit.

“My dad kept say, “Why don’t they fly? Why don’t they fly?” The birds now were standing on the side of the road doing nothing and my dad repeated. “They need to fly.”

And so they did. Six more made it safely across. Listening to my dad’s excitement telling me what all the turkeys were doing as I tried to snap photos released a lot of the pain I have felt the last few days.

ducksriverAt the end of the photo shoot I felt almost happy. I was happy the ducks got away too. And then we pulled into the driveway. As I got out of the car I automatically looked to the door — Nox’s little face was always there waiting for me but not today. I was sad and then I looked at the camera in my hand. I was offered many cats before Nox and Loki came into my life. I needed to be prepared before I could open my heart. Nox’s spirit reminded me today. I wasn’t ready to be all happy jumping out of the car taking photos. So the first two stops were duds. Deciding to go to the third stop opened me  up to receiving. And then the excitement was brought to me. When I came home I had all those photos to pour over to ease some of the loneliness.


Whether you are “doing nothing” or “flying” today — I hope you get to do it with your whole heart.