Confidence

Our uber-cat Frik perched precariously on the foot of the bed at the crack of dawn this morning and, with great fanfare and announcement, launched a humongous hairball over the edge. He didn't care at all (as cats don't) that it landed on my ridiculously expensive and fragile bedspread and spilled over onto the beautiful deep red area rug below. That it abruptly woke us up from the deep and satisfying sleep that only a Saturday morning can bring disturbed him not at all. He looked on approvingly as we scrambled for towels and cleaning solutions, and then ambled off toward his food dish in the full confidence that breakfast would be served shortly. A good morning's work, if he DOES say so himself. And he does.

I've always known there were lessons to be learned from our four-legged companions. I've just been unable to learn them. Where does a person get the confidence to just get 'results' without regard for the ensuing mess? Or to do your job and know that others will then have to do theirs? Or to believe that you play your part in the world as an individual, not part of a collective? Is 'confidence' the right term? Maybe not.

It sounds like a bad thing, doesn't it? On first reading you can imagine dictators, money-grabbers, sweat-shop operators, or big-business polluters. But this is also the pattern for successful and innovative entrepreneurs, medical researchers, chefs, political cartoonists, teachers, inventors, writers... cats.

Spectacularly successful and beneficial, or disastrously one-sided. I guess it depends on how you define 'results.'

You get things done with confidence and purpose. I can appreciate that. Just don't puke on my bedspread while you are doing it.