Wednesday, February 9, 2022
7:10 a.m. No time for a session, maybe. I am to go next door at 8 a.m. so we can bring the kitty condo here before they go off to Pantops for a Covid test prior to their trip, and I go off to see Dr. Long at 10. And I was surprised to wake up only about 20 minutes ago. Dressed, now, and ready, apprehension still high.
Guys? Anything before my life changes again? Honest to God, it feels like it did before Sarah [my first child] was born – or really, more so, as I have some experience now.
Unlax, Fuddsy.
Yeah, I know. Anything more pointed?
Your fear is exactly like some people’s fear of death. It has the same elements. Acquiring a new sentient being to care for may seem a far cry from surrendering the body and 3D life, but sometimes the great may be easier seen in the little:
- No idea what’s coming. Oh, you may have a general idea (in either case), but you can’t envision it in the way you might envision something previously experience in a different way. The parents of a second baby may have apprehensions, or a sense of responsibility, or even well-founded dread of the impending drain on their energies, etc., but they won’t be moving into uncharted territory as they were with the first child.
- Fear of not being up to what is required. This comes from a heightened sense – perhaps an exaggerated sense – of responsibility. Even if you more or less know what’s likely to come – that is, can imagine that particular aspect of your future – you may feel yourself unable to be sure you will be able to cope. Again, like the parents of a first-born, or like someone facing death.
- Reluctance to leave the known for the unknown, or, more precisely, reluctance to surrender your known and comfortable life for something at least different and perhaps revolutionary. And, of course, there is no way to know how extensive the changes will or will not be.
Interesting analogy. And true enough description of what I’m feeling, even though I also know that in a day or two she will have settled in and we will be enjoying living together. At least, I hope we will!
That too is an analogy to people making the transition from 3D to non-3D. Many die in quiet faith that life knows what it’s doing, but even those who do not have the grace of a peaceful dying wake up soon enough, and say the equivalent of “Whew!”
Yes, Rita spelled that out clearly enough.
Life knows what it is doing, and it knew when it arranged for you to be given care and feeding of a cat for a few weeks. Knew what was best for the cat, knew what was best for you, and for your neighbors.
So unlax, Fuddsy, I get it. Okay, well, I guess we’ll see how it goes.
I’m looking forward to it, actually, as I love cats. Why – oh, I see why (and I have known this and forgotten it several times). It is because it is someone else’s child, and that adds another layer of responsibility. At least, that is a layer of problem that people don’t face when they’re dying. We don’t have responsibility for someone else’s death, any more than for their life. We do it alone in one sense, supported by an entire community, in another sense.
And you don’t have to transport cat food, kitty litter, etc. from the 3D to the non-3D.
Very funny. Well, I’ll send this out when I get a chance. If nothing else it may amuse people.
Call it “Change and our reaction to change.”
Maybe “Change and anticipation”? Or Even “Change: Anticipation good and bad”?
You choose.