I am not afraid of mice. There's a picture of one inside a flower which is kind of cute. Mickey and Minnie are fine. But when I am housebound due to circumstances beyond my control and I finally find out that the odd smell from the corner cabinet is what is left of a furry friend who went for a midnight snack (apparently quite a while ago), I have to draw the line. I did not scream. I also did not remove it. Himself not only cooks like a dream, but he indulges this one seriously strange revulsion of mine. I have no idea what shape our former tenant had. I wouldn't look. Suffice it to say that "Elvis has left the building."
So in the middle of the virus of the century I am surprised at how much time I'm thinking about the poor little thing. Nature is looking better and better the longer I can't go out and play in it, and this was, after all, one of God's little creatures. We don't own pets (although at the moment a cat wouldn't be a bad idea) because I've always thought it was presumptuous. What right do I have to "own" a breathing, walking, living thing? Or a flying one, either? Cats are different. No one owns a cat. They just let you feed them and clean their litter. And let's face it, fish are just boring. You can call them forever; they will never come.
Life is life. It's all precious and fascinating and brief. Even this tiny, smelly little mouse who decided to invade my space was just trying to get along. We're all trying to just get along. Everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants to fit in. Everyone wants to feel special. Everyone wants to be seen. Everyone wants to be happy. Between self-absorption and cell phones, many people have become invisible. This isolation we are all going through is painful, but it is also fascinating. Our isolation has just become more obvious. With all this time on our hands (those who aren't out on the front lines making life possible for the rest of us, that is) everything is coming under scrutiny. What makes life special? What makes it worth living? Who makes it worth living? What happens when we stop living?
The global pandemic, more than anything I can remember, has truly made me feel as though we are all just citizens of Earth. Just going for a ride on the Big Blue Marble. It's getting very "Zen" in my head. I am beginning to feel the connected-ness of every country, every creature, even my stinky little mouse. We're all pieces of the puzzle with jagged little edges and inscrutable colors and shapes, but somehow we are meant to fit together. There is no reason why we shouldn't.
I can't look at the big death tolls. They're too scary. Thank you for giving me a microcosm to contemplate. RIP, Mousie. And sorry about the trap.
So in the middle of the virus of the century I am surprised at how much time I'm thinking about the poor little thing. Nature is looking better and better the longer I can't go out and play in it, and this was, after all, one of God's little creatures. We don't own pets (although at the moment a cat wouldn't be a bad idea) because I've always thought it was presumptuous. What right do I have to "own" a breathing, walking, living thing? Or a flying one, either? Cats are different. No one owns a cat. They just let you feed them and clean their litter. And let's face it, fish are just boring. You can call them forever; they will never come.
Life is life. It's all precious and fascinating and brief. Even this tiny, smelly little mouse who decided to invade my space was just trying to get along. We're all trying to just get along. Everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants to fit in. Everyone wants to feel special. Everyone wants to be seen. Everyone wants to be happy. Between self-absorption and cell phones, many people have become invisible. This isolation we are all going through is painful, but it is also fascinating. Our isolation has just become more obvious. With all this time on our hands (those who aren't out on the front lines making life possible for the rest of us, that is) everything is coming under scrutiny. What makes life special? What makes it worth living? Who makes it worth living? What happens when we stop living?
The global pandemic, more than anything I can remember, has truly made me feel as though we are all just citizens of Earth. Just going for a ride on the Big Blue Marble. It's getting very "Zen" in my head. I am beginning to feel the connected-ness of every country, every creature, even my stinky little mouse. We're all pieces of the puzzle with jagged little edges and inscrutable colors and shapes, but somehow we are meant to fit together. There is no reason why we shouldn't.
I can't look at the big death tolls. They're too scary. Thank you for giving me a microcosm to contemplate. RIP, Mousie. And sorry about the trap.
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