What My Little Cat Would Do

My cat looks like this when her day has gone perfectly to plan. I also look like this when my day definitely has not. Twisted upside down, eyes askew, not at all on our feet.

My mother used to use the word “discombobulated” when she felt out of sorts — when clarity, order, or the ticking off of “to-do’s” seemed an impossible feat. She would say she felt “discombobulated”.

Others, when they feel similarly, say that they feel “disoriented”. Dizzy. Maybe confused or mentally and emotionally tangled up.

“Disconnected” is another one.

Whatever is going on, it’s a frustrating feeling that leads to low creativity, minimum productivity, and — for those of us with high ambitions, who self-pressurize, who intend on showing up fully and then proceed to train wreck all day — these feelings of being off track in some way can feel disenchanting.

What we really want to feel is enchanted.

Combobulated? If “-combobulated” means that all I set out to do gets done, and shiningly so, then I’ll take it.

Living in Nicaragua, I am reminded of how little control we really have.

This is a good thing. Being reminded that all we want to achieve will still happen, but sometimes maybe not in the timeline we chose, is something that keeps me in…