Last night, Pawly (my elderly kitty), began racing back and forth along the back wall of my apartment.

“Well isn’t that cute,” I thought.  “She’s having a kitten moment.  The ole girl’s still got it.”  And then an internal alarm exploded in my brain.  Fear raced from my tailbone to the tippy top of my lifeless hair.

“Pawly doesn’t get bursts of energy at 10:22 p.m.,” my voice quivered.  “In fact, Pawly rarely peels her sweet, chunky little body from the white, wicker rocker in my bedroom.  Something is in this house.”

Pawly screeches to a halt, and stares obsessively at the curtain hiding the back door (don’t ask…it’s a weird set-up).  This isn’t a good sign.

“Pawly…sweetie,” I nervously coo.  “Whatcha got over there?”

She glances my way, an evil sparkle in her eye.

“Pawly?  What is it, girl?”  Bella joins her.  Their bodies are frozen…their heads whip from the doorway to the far corner…simultaneously…like furry fans at Wimbledon.  I repeat:  something is in this house.

(Musical aside) “Poppa?  Poppa can you hear me?”

I tip toe back to the couch, scanning the room for that which I do not want to find.  Nothing.  I sit down, prop both feet on the coffee table and attempt to focus on the news.  Then I scream at the top of my lungs…a blood-curdling cry…just before passing out.

When I come to, the horrible memory of a gigantic roach racing under my feet toward the entertaiment center replays in my mind.  I shake my head and calm my racing heart.  The girls are standing guard beneath the television…they’ve cornered the beast.

My first thought:  “I cannot see it…therefore, it does not exist.”

Follow-up thought:  “Boy - ain’t that the story of my life.”

Follow-up to follow-up thought:  “Think I gotta change that.”

And really…don’t we all?  How often do we cast aside our gut to keep the waters calm?  Think about it.  Really think about it.  How often do we ignore the obvious to save ourselves (temporarily) from heartache/disappointment/fear/failure?

“Was that annoyance in his voice…because I brushed my teeth the wrong way?  Nah.  He loves me.  He’s just tired.”

“So her eyes are bloodshot and her grades are dropping.  But my kid wouldn’t do drugs.”

 ”If I don’t go to the doctor, they can’t find anything. So it isn’t there.”

Boy, I bet you didn’t think I was gonna switch from roaches to deep thoughts.  Gotta keep you on your toes.  Us women (humans in general, really)…we’re complicated folks.  Laughing one minute.  Crying the next.  In love this year.  Bored the next.  There is no right answer.  There is no perfect path.  But I do believe, if we continue to grow…if we’re eventually honest with ourselves - about love and life, challenges and triumphs - we’ll end up on the right track…learning whatever it is we’re put here to learn.  And what is that?  Who knows.  But I can venture a guess.  It’s likely about connections, “moments”, love, acceptance…because those are the ingredients that make our lives a hearty, homey, memorable stew, aren’t they?

I’ve started to get my body healthy…my energy level has shot from a pathetic 20 to a bouncing-off-the-walls 200.  It’s tough to realize where you really were - how difficult and frustrating it was - until you’re climbing out of it, until you catch a glimpse of the other side.  But I’m starting to grasp it, and now all I want, all I can think of, is that I need to experience it all…everything.  But first…I’ve got to get real.  I’ve got to face the fact that, if I don’t approach life openly and honestly, I’m not (as Queen Oprah would say) living an “authentic life”.

So, no more ignoring the “signs”.  No more brushing snide comments under the rug…ignoring when the kiss seems different…pushing aside that internal voice booming “Wrong guy!  Wrong friend! Flippant career move!”  I’ve learned a lot over the years, and it’s time to put those lessons to good use.  Not just on occasion - when it’s convenient or easy…but everytime…every single time that internal voice yells “Danger” - I gotta buck it up, stand my ground and move on.

Whew!  That felt good!  Maybe I should become a motivational speaker.  But I don’t like being on stage.  See that!  It’s already working!  Flippant career move halted by listening to voice of reason.  Of course, there is something to be said for conquering fears…

Oh, Jesus…there’s the roach!  Oh, God!  Get it, Bella!  Get it, girl! (panic, heavy breathing, almost inaudible screech).  Struggling roach now back under entertainment center.  No longer exists.  Cannot see.  No longer exists.

Give a girl a break.  Change doesn’t happen overnight.

 

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