Time Travel, Anyone?

Are We There Yet?

We haven’t quite reached the technological pinnacle of actual time travel, but I’ve discovered a pretty good runner up. It’s not rocket science because we all do it…we’re all time travelers in a sense.
 
We can easily travel to the past. It’s call memory. We can also travel to the future. It’s called visualizing, manifesting, wishing, or just ordinary planning. 
 
Both are powerful means of travel. 
 
They can take you to the badlands of regret or the rose gardens of anticipation. It’s all up to you.
 
So, what to do if you’re stuck in the pits of rumination? Traveling there is a total waste of time. It’s like taking a detour that leads to a dead end. I once saw a show about a woman whose GPS led her straight into the middle of the desert where she was desperately low on gas.
This is a time travel trip you don’t want to take.
 
On the other hand, anticipating something you really want is a trip worth taking.
 
My Favorites

But there’s another type of travel trigger. It’s called music. Music can take you back in a fraction of a second.
 
The other day, as I was driving, I heard the “Theme From Peter Gunn”. That was the song the school band played at my high school pep rallies. Instantly, I could see the pom-poms and the bleachers, and I was immediately energized. This is my kind of time travel!
 
I remember hearing the Beach Boy song, “Do It Again”, and was instantly transported to my Aunt and Uncle’s house where I was dancing in the living room.
 
“Lara’s Theme” from Dr. Zhivago takes me to a movie date during the Christmas holidays with my high school boyfriend.
 
But music isn’t the only time trigger. Smells, or aromas, are just as jet propelled. 
 
The smell of Old Spice brings my father back to life. Shalimar does the same to my mother. The smell of bacon takes me to my Aunt’s kitchen. 
 
When I smell honeysuckle, I’m a kid playing in my front yard.
 
The point is…why wait for technology to catch up…we’ve got the real deal sitting right on the top of our shoulders. 
 
That’s good enough for me.

Advertisement

The Cat Therapists Strike Again

December

We’re nearing the Winter Solstice, and the Sun is headed for a comeback. All I can say is, ”It’s about time!”, which rings true on more than one level. The days will slowly grow longer, and with any luck, I won’t feel like it’s bedtime at 5:00. It portends the end of Seasonal Affective Disorder for those living in the North, and gives me hope. As best said by the poet Shelley, “If winter comes, can Spring be far behind?”

This is the season for optimism, for hope, for making resolutions. Resolutions alone are hopeful promises. The fact that they’re broken by February 1^st should be a given. Don’t think of it as defeat. Resolutions are meant to be marathons, not sprints.

The Cats

So, what does this have to do with my cats? These two tuxedos are prognosticators of change. It’s as if they’re reading my mind as I think about the changes I need to make in the coming year. 

Their approach doesn’t come in the form of a gentle suggestion, or prod. Instead, it’s experiential, like emersion therapy. Their therapeutic method doesn’t ask permission. Instead of suggesting ways to manifest my new reality, they create a situation that demands action on my part. They force my hand in their sneaky feline way, at just the right time, in just the right place.

The synchronicity of their schemes is not lost on me. 

Their Exact Approach

I’ve been trying for the past year to remove the clutter in my house…in  other words, to become what they call a “minimalist”.

It aint easy! 

Cats are explorers. They’re curious. Today they discovered the family pictures so carefully arranged on top of the file cabinets in my home office. Their sights are set on the heavens as they yearn to get as high a perch as possible. 

I could instantly get that those pictures were no longer safe in their present location. Those family pics were in imminent danger of becoming flying projectiles. They had to go…but where?

There wasn’t room anywhere else. For the time being, they’ve been stuffed in a drawer. They’re no longer visible. My filing cabinets are now minimalist.

The cats” reality therapy” approach has forced me towards my goal. I guess I should thank them. As they say, “the end justifies the means.”

They’re psychic little somebodies, and I have to admit, all in all, pretty good therapists!