The cave woman in me

Good morning…

I thought I would take a minute to write a little about something I have come to realise the past weeks. As cultured, educated, enlightend etc. I may consider myself to be, there is a cave woman living in me. To my big surprise!

The older I have grown, the less interested in having kids I have become. Something that really upsets me to the point of getting high blood preassure is when people state that our purpose for being here is to reproduce, that’s the meaning of life etc… Bullshit!! If that was the purpose then I seriously doubt that the pregnancy time would be as long as 9 months and we probably would be popping out six or seven at the time, right? I believe our life purpose is a totally different one, but that’s up for another discussion so let’s save it for later…

Anyway, we all know someone who’s recently become a PARENT and thereby changed in very mysterious ways. We watch him or her stop caring about looks, friends, social gatherings etc. and put 100% focus on their offspring. We watch them in disbelief as they stroll through the supermarket; patiently patting the butts of a screaming red-faced little monster that is about to make our eardrums burst, even though we might be standing 50 meters away. A little thing that is vomiting, poo-pooing, crying, screaming, kicking…and we wonder how they pull it off? How come they don’t have a fit, right there in the supermarket!?
But they don’t. Instead they smile to themselves and keep shopping. THAT’s the cave woman, right there in the super market.

Two months ago I became the lucky owner of two beautiful birma cats. Now, one of them has been (and still is) sick with some sort of stomache problem which results in poo-pooing all over the place in addition to the normal kitten behaviour of playfully biting my toes in the middle of the night, miaowing loud to inform me of everything they are doing or wanting, playfully scratching and biting when you want nothing else but a whole night’s sleep…and I realise these two kittens have managed to deliver the cave woman in me. I almost never get angry with them, my patience is never ending, in my eyes they’s always adorable, I think they are the most beautiful creatures on the planet. I don’t hesitate on discussing and seriously analysing their poo-poo and when people ask:
“So, how are you?”, I give them a detailed (not asked for) update on the status of my cats’ health and well being in addition to how I am doing.
When Gandalf is looking at me with his blue eyes and miaowing or purring, stroking his head against my cheek or Hekate is licking my hand and then runs off to play I feel as if I am about to burst with love and pride. Couldn’t be prouder if I had delivered them myself! Maybe it’s the fact that they, as well as babies, are so incredibly dependant on you to take care of them? That they automatically makes you so important? I don’t know, but I feel an overwhelming need to love and protect them.

However, it’s not until I talk to a friend about my cats that I realise that I have actually become a little bit of a cave woman. In other people’s eyes my cats are just cats, just like a baby in the super market is a baby among millions for me.
“Yeah, kittens are always cute!”, “Oh, he’ll be fine soon…!” etc. and I feel somewhat insulted. My cats aren’t just any kittens (they are EXTRAORDINARY cute, UNIQUE etc and that’s it!) and how do you know Gandalf will be fine, huh? And then I have to smile to myself for being so ridiculously sensitive about my cats.
But I guess that primitive tickle down the spine that makes us so protective and patient with our little ones (kittens, puppies or babies alike) is what has made humanity survive since the dawn of time.
Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t think our purpose in life is to reproduce, but I am so happy I have gotten to see at least a glimpse of that stone age female in me, and I can’t help but feel a bit proud of her!

Have a great day and smile at the cave women around you…

/Jenny

Gloomy Sunday

Good morning, good night or good afternoon wherever you people are att his very moment…
Myself, I am sitting at home in my couch with my two lovely cats lying next to me, frenetically cleaning their beautiful white furs.
The rain is tapping on the tin roof and it’s as grey as it can be outside my window… but it’s quite alright as long as you don’t stick your nose outside. I actually like rainy Sundays, because it justifies me to truly chill and do all the lazy things I can come up with

In a couple of hours, my ex-boyfriend is coming by to pick up the cats since we have “shared custody” of them… I know, it sounds ridiculous, but neither one of us can give them up so it’s the only mature thing to do, right? Give me some adult-points, please!
We broke up two weeks ago and I go from sad to relieved like the pounding of an EKG; sad-relieved-sad-relieved-sad-relieved… and now I am pretty confident that I will stick to relieved.
It’s funny how you can spend almost a year considering breaking up, playing with the thought as if it was something interesting and unlikely which you can objectively view from different angles. Sometimes even hoping that something would make it happen… but that you would never admit to anyone, not even to yourself, afraid that the very thought would awaken some demon that would put everything to an end. So when it finally happens, you’re struck to the ground by pure shock that it actually did happen. Well, of course it would. If you keep sending out those thoughts…
I spoke to my best friend about this last night, as we were having a lovely tapas dinner at Olé Olé. Is there a moment when the universe just decides that things will end, that you are no longer good for eachother? Or is it a process that slowly sneaks into the relationship and starts eating it up from the inside until what used to be the strongest thing in your life, that which would endure anything suddenly is an empty shell that falls apart for the silliest reason?
When was that moment? What were we doing at that EXACT moment when everything secretely changed? Were we having dinner? Taking a walk? Lying in bed? Could we have done anything differently or were we simply never meant to be? Or maybe we were meant to be, but only as long as we were truly good for eachother? Maybe the universe doesn’t compromise on happiness the way people do and maybe we should be extremely thankful for that.
I believe in destiny, in a masterplan for all of us… I strongly believe that we are carried through life on stride currents created by thousands of re-births, kharma and some uncomprehendable universal wisdom…that makes it pretty arrogant to asume to know anything about the future. That however, does not mean that we are free from responsibility. Instead we should try just to see the beauty in it and be the best we can be. Surround ourselves with people that brings out the best in you and who you bring out the best of.
I think we all have one or two guardians walking behind us as we go through life, and I trust that they simply want the best for us. So maybe, there’s no need to cry over a failed relationship, the job you badly wanted but never got etc… there’s probably something better down the road.
If we can only be patient.

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