It's after 4 and I'm awake thanks to the low rolling rumble of that massive Russian transport plane that lands here monthly or thereabouts, a refuelling stop on its journey over the top of the world; a middle of the night, under the cover of darkness pitstop for a tired crew but now the stale sleepless air of the darkened room seems heavier and more uncomfortable, and my foggy brain contemplates returning to sleep as I shift and turn and flip the pillow to uncover the cool fresh side, hoping to quell the rising storm of random thoughts beginning to call for my attention. I know it's pointless so I shuffle into the blackness and down the hall, a sliver of moon or maybe streetlight falling across the far end, giving me just enough hope of not stubbing my toe as I navigate the shadows to the front room. In the shadows I can make out the black cat curled upon his post and he lifts a furry head at my hand's direction and satisfied at finding me at the other end of the outstretched arm, returns his head between his paws and turns deeper into his unfinished task. The darkness outside is beginning to lighten, revealing the crooked oak across the street, stars still dot the sky above and twinkle through the swaying branches, though the morning's dawn will soon begin to consume them and I think about the day ahead, the possibilities and responsibilities and wonder if once it concludes if I'll feel more content with where I am and what I'm doing, or if maybe tomorrow will just bring more of the same. The other cat silently appears and joins me on the couch, kneading and pulling at my blanket as he searches for the perfect spot to settle somewhere on my feet, taking more of my discomfort with every longer stretch until he's buried deep between the folds. It's simple really if you watch them and their approach to life, just being what they are without any pretense or airs or questioning of its validity. Meeting needs as they arise, fulfilling their purpose ever-present, sliding simply between being and doing until the line blurs to perfection. A muted yawn and one last stretch and he slips back into sleep not yet prepared to face a day that hasn't yet arrived, and it becomes clear that we could learn much if we'd only get out of our own way...
