Every now and then when I'm feeling stressed out like I was this morning, something amusing happens to me. A song pops into my head. Not just any song, mind you. This one belongs to a band that went to my high school called Dork, which was led by a guy named Spike. I am not making this up. Even the teachers called him that. The lyrics say, "Today was a good day. Yesterday sucked. Tomorrow will be better if we make it that way. Ya, ya, ya, ya." Very profound, I know. It was the height of ska (kind of a reggae/punk mix for those that blinked and missed that era).
The thing that makes it noteworthy for me is not the depth of the lyrics or the quality of the melody, but the fact that I cannot think of this song without smiling. It's silly, but it works every time. All of the sudden I am transported back to high school. I think of the silly, happy song and the goofy band, and it is impossible to take myself and my life so seriously. (I'm not sure this would work for everyone. One of my friends from the time lived within earshot of their practice space, so I think the thought of their songs makes her grind her teeth.)
I lost track of these guys, and I'm pretty sure the band broke up when we graduated. Last I heard Spike was headed to the University of Hawaii to major in surfing. Wherever they are, I'd like to say thanks to Dork. Your music still makes me smile, whether it’s today, yesterday or tomorrow.
3.18.2010
3.06.2010
The Way of the Kitty
It's been quite a while since I blogged, I know. What can I say? I've been working at some side jobs that have turned into almost full time work. It's amazing how uninspired that can make a person. There's also the reality of just how tired growing a child can make you. Anyway, I'm back, hopefully to write more consistently.
One morning this week I was making my bed and observing the daily ritual my cats undertake during this process. It got me thinking that their approaches really are a metaphor for life. Not one to pass up sharing the Tao of the Kitty, I thought I would share.
As soon as my husband and I leave the bed in the morning, both cats jump up and get very comfortable, each being careful not to invade the other one's territorial claim. (This is very important because one is a pacifist and other one is a fascist dictator. Boundaries are crucial to peace.) One usually lies spread-eagle on her back, while the other one sprawls out on her side. This bliss lasts while the humans rush around getting ready for the day, and then the time comes to make the bed.
Neither of them will jump down willingly, so I usually just start moving pillows and tugging at the covers. Without fail this will evoke the same response in each one every time. The dictator will immediately jump down and stare back at me indignantly, making unhappy noises. The pacifist, back-lier just holds on for the ride, stretching and making contented sounds.
As I watched this the other morning for the seemingly zillionth time, I had to laugh. Aren't we all a little like one of these creatures? The bed must be made. We know it's coming. It happens every day, and yet some of us will rage against the machine getting angry at the disruptive realities of life. Meanwhile, others just stretch and get more comfortable, enjoying the ride of life. I tend to be more of an indignant rager, but I'm thinking...maybe my mornings would be happier if I followed the way of the stretching, contented kitty.
One morning this week I was making my bed and observing the daily ritual my cats undertake during this process. It got me thinking that their approaches really are a metaphor for life. Not one to pass up sharing the Tao of the Kitty, I thought I would share.
As soon as my husband and I leave the bed in the morning, both cats jump up and get very comfortable, each being careful not to invade the other one's territorial claim. (This is very important because one is a pacifist and other one is a fascist dictator. Boundaries are crucial to peace.) One usually lies spread-eagle on her back, while the other one sprawls out on her side. This bliss lasts while the humans rush around getting ready for the day, and then the time comes to make the bed.
Neither of them will jump down willingly, so I usually just start moving pillows and tugging at the covers. Without fail this will evoke the same response in each one every time. The dictator will immediately jump down and stare back at me indignantly, making unhappy noises. The pacifist, back-lier just holds on for the ride, stretching and making contented sounds.
As I watched this the other morning for the seemingly zillionth time, I had to laugh. Aren't we all a little like one of these creatures? The bed must be made. We know it's coming. It happens every day, and yet some of us will rage against the machine getting angry at the disruptive realities of life. Meanwhile, others just stretch and get more comfortable, enjoying the ride of life. I tend to be more of an indignant rager, but I'm thinking...maybe my mornings would be happier if I followed the way of the stretching, contented kitty.
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