Ever wonder why cats get 9 chances when we get only one?
When I was a kid, I watched my little sister carry our cousin’s cat to the top of a two story balcony and calmly toss it over the side. I remember wondering how she could do that to a sweet little cat while simultaneously marveling at how the feline managed to twist its body in the air, land on its feet, and streak into the nearest bush.
She was immediately questioned by our mother and aunt who wanted to know what on earth she was thinking treating a cat like that. Her face grew puzzled at their dismay and she answered, “Well, I heard they always landed on their feet, and I wanted to see if it was true.” I understood that answer very well, after all, who wouldn’t want to see the secret of ninja resilience in action? Thanks to my sister’s belief in old sayings, I got to witness the magic of cat-like reflexes.
Over the years, I’ve thought a lot about that cat flying through the air, contorting itself perfectly to ensure a clean landing. It was such a fluid series of movements that I knew it had to be pure instinct, muscle memory from millions of cat predecessors who dialed in mid-flight maneuvering to an art form. Talk about the ultimate leap of faith.
The other day my 9 year old and I went skiing on Mt. Hood and he wanted to take me on his favorite run through the trees. I had never been on this run and had just bruised my brain a few weeks previously from a hard tumble on the slopes. I was feeling hesitant about going off piste and wanted to stick to the groomed powder, but I also wanted to hang with my kiddo.
As Life would have it, my son is an adrenaline seeker and favors the deeply unknown and varied terrain of tree skiing, so it was either fight it out or take a chance and throw myself off the proverbial balcony. So, I did, but without millennia of muscle memory to guide me through the snowy forest. Suffice it to say, I was not as graceful as the cat as I careened down the narrow trail.
I skidded, snow-plowed, and side-stepped my way through what felt like an endless series of swoops, turns, and drops before finally emerging onto a blessedly smooth run. “Don’t take me on something like that again.” I sulkily proclaimed as we headed to the lift. As we rode to the top of the run, I felt a little thrill ripple through my body. It hadn’t been pretty, but I learned something new and I SURVIVED.
In the back of my mind, I was already running that canyon again, my brain more comfortable now that it had a little sense of what was coming. In that moment, I remembered the cat.
As I considered his adventure and resilience, I recognized a few practices that seemed germane to having “extra lives.”
- Roam-cats explore, while simultaneously being very territorial. They have their boundaries for sure, but they KNOW the space they live in. I guarantee the flying cat had been on the second floor balcony before that fateful flight. He also knew where the closest safe zone, aka, bush, was when he reached the ground. When you take the time to check out the space you inhabit, it’s easier to navigate unexpected variables like 5 year olds testing the rules of gravity with your body. That’s at least a couple of extra lives right there.
- Stay Flexible-Have you ever watched a cat groom themselves? It’s yoga in action. Furry contortionists who know how to move their bodies to reach unusual places. Investing in the fullest range of motion you have available to your body, mind, and emotions means that you can agilely bend to meet the Unexpected without completely losing your balance.
- Get Ample Rest-There’s a reason we have phrases like “cat naps”. Sleep is deeply restorative and cats take full advantage of its regenerative magic. No apologizing or denying that they need a little recharge, just stop, drop, and snooze. It’s not indulgent, it’s healing.
I’ll be hitting that tree trail again before the ski season is over. In the meantime I’ll roam the interwebs for information about movements to practice for navigating the trees. I’ll listen to my son who advised me to just “Go with the flow, Mom”, and I’ll rest up so I’m ready to be sharp, attentive, and ready to change position in mid-air as I fly through the forest.
