Familiars
I need to admit something. I just fell asleep. Well, actually, I just woke up after accidentally falling asleep, and realize I have precious little time left to write my post this evening.
My pup, Spartacus, hopped into my lap about an hour ago, tucked himself into the nooks and crannies of my crossed legs, and fell asleep. When he fell asleep, the weight of his muscular Boston Terrier body settled in and he snuggled deeper and deeper. He sighed, and I could tell he was descending into his version of the dreamtime.
The funny thing is, I’ve been looking forward to writing this post all day. Not ‘this’ post specifically, obviously, since this clearly does not have a distinct point or purpose. But I found myself looking forward to reaching out and connecting in this fascinatingly compelling relationship I feel we’re engaging in.
I know some of you are reading my words, somewhere, be it in minutes, hours, or years from now, and I just love that sense. I can’t explain it. That sense of even one other person besides myself reading what I happen to share on this tiny piece of machinery in my lap (which has succeeded in ousting my deliciously warm, loving pup) is…magical.
Familiar? Or Connection?
I started out thinking I would write about my ‘familiars’ ~ my four legged family members who station themselves in such a way as to make me dance around them almost relentlessly, yet are such profound fonts of unconditional love and enthusiastic adoration. But now I’m thinking about you, my readers.
Hmm, what is the connection here? Maybe that’s precisely what it is: connection. With my pups and my kitties, the connection is, naturally, physical. There are words involved, but it’s debatable just how much they actually understand. Sure, they comprehend my tone and probably even facial expressions to an extent, and they certainly can ‘read’ the energy emanating from my entire body, mind, and spirit.
And then there is my connection with those of you who care enough to read my words. But our only connection, really, are those words. There is no shared eye contact, no touch, no warm hugs.
And yet, we’re connected. And it matters, to me at least, that you are there. Receiving my outreach, even if it’s only via words.
Thank you.
(T-1078)