This morning our cat Raisin tried to jump from the floor onto the bathroom counter. In mid-jump, she floundered, hit the counter at an oblique angle and fell back down to the floor. Needless to say, she had scared herself witless and took off like a streaker at a Whitecaps-vs-Galaxy soccer match.
It’s always surprising to me when cats are clumsy. They normally have a great sense of balance and awareness of their surroundings. So while I was amused by Raisin’s failure to negotiate her jump, I also looked at it as a metaphor. Did she lose heart and give up mid-jump? I know she can clear the counter. She’s done it many times before.
Of course I relate this to my life. Going to Berlin. Jumping into the life of an artist. Taking the leap. Don’t lose faith. If you don’t try, you don’t succeed. And so on.
But then it occurred to me: Might Raisin simply be getting a bit too old for those jumps?