Blue

One of the first times I parked my car in front of my new adobe home in the Rio Grande bosque, a resident came to greet me. He jumped up on my car, waltzed across the hood, hiked up the windshield, strolled across the roof and skidded down the back window, leaving paw prints in his wake. If the car door is left open, he will explore the inside. With a thick grey coat and yellow eyes, he is well cared for and has an owner. He likes to enter everyone’s house. Curious, he wants to see and smell everything. He will come to your door when you are unlocking it to be let in. Once he has inspected the interior and noted any changes, he camps out on a high windowsill, looks out, surveys his domain, stays a while, then leaves. He’s the community cat. His name is Blue. I’ve befriended him, petted him, talked with him, offered him tuna (no, thank you) and milk (yes!). He visited several times while I was moving in.

Once my furniture was delivered, after drinking milk, he went over and sharpened his claws on my new sleeper sofa. When I yelled “HEY! NO!” he ran out the door. Several days later, he wanted in again as I unlocked the front door. I gave him “a severe talking to,” as one of my spiritual teachers likes to say, telling him that if he cannot treat my space and belongings with respect, he cannot come in. He rubbed against my legs. Was he making up? I let him in. We visited, he checked everything out, I gave him milk, then he went over and clawed the sofa again. This time when I yelled, he streaked out the door. I didn’t see him again for around a week.

Interestingly enough, as I sat writing morning pages about a difficult challenge in one of my relationships, Blue jumped over the kitchen patio wall and stood at the French door meowing loudly to be let in. I was concerned he might be trapped in the patio since the stucco wall is 6’ high. I considered letting him in so he could exit by the front door, but I realized if I let him in, there was no way I could prevent him from being destructive again, so I didn’t let him in. I repeated, “NO” loudly until he left. While writing about Blue, I “heard” a message from Spirit: “Don’t let Blue in the house.” Today he ran up to the front door when he saw me outside by my car. I was leaving, not arriving, and only had to say “No” twice before he headed toward the next door neighbor.

Do you have a Blue in your life? Do you keep letting them in? Do you keep thinking their behavior will change? Metaphors and symbolic messages abound when we pay attention, when we listen. At the very moment I’m writing about personal boundaries and destructive behavior, a destructive cat is meowing loudly to be let in again. Hellloooooo…..Terranda, are you paying attention? Yes. Well, just to be sure, see what you think about this.

When I opened my front door this morning, a gazillion medium-sized, tan moths lodged inside my screen door took flight at once. They are everywhere. I opened both the front and back screen doors several times today to let them out. Now, as I look out the window just after sunset, I see them skittering across the sky in silhouette. We need a bat invasion. Finally tired of escorting them outside, I sent the last four fluttering inside my living room window to heaven. While cleaning the window pane, I saw a hand creep up on the outside, matching the movements of mine. My laughing neighbor, Rich, was attached to it. “What’s with the moth invasion?” I asked. “Cutter moths, Rich said, “the worst I’ve seen them in 15 years. They will live two or three days, lay eggs, then die. If they are inside on your walls when they die, they leave barf spots on your walls.”  “Oh great,” I said. “Moth barf, just what everyone needs. Welcome to New Mexico!”

And that’s how the Universe kindly provided me with a second, very personal experience that not everything that, not everyone who, wants to be in your presence has your best interest in mind or is wanted by you. “Saying no can be the ultimate in self-care,” says Claudia Black, as quoted in The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.