In the insanity of the rollercoaster ride on Wall Street this week, I’m opting to write of my calm cat and have some fun today.
Every day my kitty, Gema (pushing 16), takes naps amidst the chaotic happenings of two home-based businesses (BTW- she’s napping on a $500 sham she took as hers and currently uses as a nail sharpener). Phones ring incessantly, workers are in and out, and she must absorb the dueling conversations which compete with the docile tones of the meditative music I play in my office. But all the workplace chaos doesn’t keep her from her job as house mascot, peace keeper, and personal worklife balance consultant. I think it’s because she naps.
Gema is the holder of the space. The calm in the storm. The visual voice of reason. The external reminder of our alleged internal bliss. Her day consists of heading for a walk to the window, taking a quick drink of water or a more lengthy snack break in the kitchen, and equally spending her time napping between my office and her daddy’s quarters upstairs.
Breaking up her day with these naps keeps her – and the rest of us – on an even keel I think. When voices are raised she flinches and tosses a fierce look your way. She keeps us all under control, cool and calm. As for me, Gema’s routine and mere presence is a constant worklife balance reminder to slow down, take a breath and not take life so seriously.
