And yet, I do possess an engine for peace and disorder—no, not disorder, but non-order, that calm that can be felt in the moment.
I have only to start it up and allow it to run, and my brain will cease its whirling, relax, find its true center.
In my lap.
I had many ideas about meeting the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge this week, and unfortunately, they were part of the drive to impose order, to control every minute gear and cog of my life. Then Nimitz leaned against my thigh, and stretched out a paw to Pounce reclining against my chest, both of them purring and content.
You are the experts at being in the moment, I thought. And there it was...
January 7, 2015 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that describes a moment of being.It can be practical, such as what it’s like to be a traveler on a crowded plane or a working parent trying to get breakfast served. It can be reflective, such as what it’s like to experience prejudice or a pilgrimage. It can be silly, scary or surreal.
In the Warm Moment
I am the expert. I find the Warm and occupy its center. That is my enduring task, that, and being in the tiled place when food arrives.
I move from Warm to Warm, until it is time to eat. Some Warm is hard and brightly lit, good for stretching out to maximize the fur that is heated. Some Warm is soft and kneadable, good for curling up and being groomed.
I hate when the Soft Warm moves away from under me, but then I find the Soft Warm place that was hidden beneath it, and I am again content.