The Messenger

Have any moments of inspiration ever touched your heart and mind? As if the sunlight graced your eyes and cleared the thoughts that cloud with time. I spent so much of my life in darkness. That is, until I received a curious message.

I arrived home from work one night, not too long ago, sluggish and happy to be home. Or at least as happy as I could be. I was so tired. In my final year of college, I was classically overworked and underpaid, always leaving the house before the sun arose and returning home well after daybreak. School then work, school then work, every hour that I was awake. I was so eager to lie down. Eager to fall asleep. Eager to take a break from the conscious life I knew as “Me.” I was so tired. I had to stop and gather myself for a moment before I walked inside.

After finding the willpower to stand, I stepped out of my car and walked around to the other side to grab my things. Slinging my backpack onto my shoulder, I was startled by a stray cat that darted behind me, wandering straight up to my front door. Confused, I stared at it for a moment as it stared right back at me. I had never seen this little tabby before. Tentatively I walked over, fearing that he might scratch or bite if I got too close, but he just sat and purred. When I got closer, he started pawing at my door as if asking to go inside. Flabbergasted I just stood there, not wanting to let this random animal into my house. He pawed a few more times, then stepped towards me to make my acquaintance. He seemed nice enough so I bent over to pet him, figuring that he might just need a little love. I was hoping that he would scurry off after, but he just purred and looked at me. After what felt like ten or fifteen minutes, I eventually caved and opened my front door. He marched right in without hesitation.

He didn’t seem hungry and never whined or got into anything. He just wandered around curiously. I put my things down so that I could sit and watch him, curious myself as to why he was there. After exploring the place sufficiently, he joined me on the couch, begging for attention. We sat together for about an hour as I pet him. Where was he from? I wondered to myself. He must have been one of my neighbor’s pets, but what compelled him to walk up to my door? I couldn’t gather it. When I got up from the couch, he followed me around the house, only a step or two behind. I even opened my front door again to see if he would leave, but he didn’t budge. There weren’t any clues as to why he was here, but for some reason he wanted to be, so I let him stay.

It was nearly midnight at this point, and I was ready to collapse. He followed me up to my room and jumped onto the bed next to me, settling himself snugly in-between my legs. He seemed so peaceful. I couldn’t bring myself to move him, so we slept all night that way. Normally I am a fairly restless sleeper, tossing and turning throughout the night, but that night I stayed quite still. It seemed that my unconscious self didn’t want to bother him.

The next morning my body was stiff, but he was still comfortably nestled. I sat up and started gently petting him again, slowly waking him. It was a tender moment that we got to share together. I was genuinely growing to like him, but he wasn’t mine. I figured his family would be worried about him, so I brought him downstairs and opened up the door. He took a few steps outside, but surprised me by turning around and walking back in. Once again he had chosen to stay.

It was a Saturday so I had more time than usual to entertain him, but I was growing slightly worried. I didn’t have the energy or resources to care for a new pet. I could barely take care of myself. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the little guy, so we just walked back upstairs to start the morning.

I like to write and draw, but at the time I had grown quite distant from those things. I deeply missed that side of me, but was simply too tired and overworked to search for the inspiration. Instead, I had gotten used to filling any occasional void with cheap entertainment. I turned on a random show to captivate my attention for the few hours I had before work. We sat for a little while, quietly listening together. The cat, however, became restless, climbing onto the windowsill next to my bed and pawing at the blinds rather incessantly. I quickly found this irritating, so in slight opposition I pulled the blinds open to let him observe the world outside the window. That settled him for a moment, but he grew restless again and focused in on a pencil that was sitting on the ledge. He pawed at it, knocking it off and onto my bed. Annoyed, I placed the pencil back and he immediately swatted it off again. This continued for a few more rounds. “What do you want?” I asked in frustration. As he batted at the pencil again, I blurted out, “What? Do you want me to go outside and write?” Pausing for a moment, he stared at me, as if maybe I had finally gotten the message.

Somewhat sarcastically entertaining the idea, I grabbed the pencil and an empty notebook and wandered out to my front porch, with him following closely on my heels. It was a tiny space with only a couple trees and a few other townhomes making up the view. It had never moved me much before, and in this moment the same held true. But I still had a few hours to burn, so I tried my best to enjoy it. I figured I would stay outside long enough for this cat to wander off again, hoping it would happen quickly. But he laid down in the chair next to me, so I opened up my notebook and put the pencil to the page.

I hadn’t written in quite some time and didn’t feel like I had much to say, but the pencil started moving almost involuntarily. To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure where any of the words were coming from. I started to meditate upon ideas of God and life, a topic that I had grown disenfranchised with years before. When pondering this, I generally got frustrated and angry, but in this moment all that came to mind was love. On the next page I wrote about a faith and hope for the future that had been absent for years. I had been too exhausted to even dream of it. An interesting emotion flooded my system, somewhere between inspiration and anguish. I didn’t believe these words. I normally would have scoffed at these ideas, and was truly baffled that I was the one writing them. Then the cat suddenly arose from the chair and began walking away, but circled around and laid down again next to me on the other side. I stared at him in disbelief. The question, “Why are you here?” came back into mind more thoughtfully than before. After pondering briefly, my vision returned to the page, searching desperately for words that might explain my situation, but nothing came. Only then, my attention turned toward the sky, hoping to find the answers there. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I was astonished by the sight; the most beautiful clouds I had ever seen.

They filled the sky, outlined by a bright and wonderful blue. Tears came to my eyes. I had honestly forgotten how striking such a simple view could be. It had been years since I had taken the time to sit and appreciate it, or even notice it for that matter. Somewhere along the way I had lost the ability to see what was directly in front of me. This was astounding.

Words flowed effortlessly onto the page again. This time, however, it was like I was writing to myself. As if noting down a reminder to look up every now and then, and to go out into the world to fully experience it. A sense of clarity came rushing in, making it blatantly obvious how severely my poor habits and lifestyle had wilted me. The fresh air was rejuvenating. The beaming rays of sunlight filled my soul. I felt more like myself than I had in a very long time. I realized, for my own good, this could no longer be ignored.

As an artist, though, I was disappointed in myself. Although thirsting for inspiration, I had been either too tired or ignorant to realize the wealth of abundance surrounding me. Those clouds were gorgeous, but frankly, they always are. I had just been choosing to stay locked inside and never see them. While I was mulling over this idea, the cat finally got up to leave, looking back one final time to say its goodbye before turning the corner. An immense gratitude overloaded me as I watched him walk away. I would have stayed inside that morning, never realizing any of this, if not for him.

I don’t know if it was God or Spirit who led that cat to me, but I do know that I feel more connected to whatever God or Spirit might be because of him. Sometimes all we need is a little push in the right direction, or perhaps a small hint or message of hope to remind us of who we really are. I never saw my feline friend again unfortunately, but I suspect that means he taught me everything I needed to know. This world is a wonderful gift and a true blessing to play a role in. However, it is important to never forget to go out and be an active part of it, for at least a few minutes everyday, because I am never truly myself without it.