What Happens When the Cat Stays Home…

We all know the old adage that when the cat’s away, the mice will play. I doubt that there is not more than a few of us that doesn’t harbour a secret cat-cation story that is best kept just that. Don't get me wrong, I am not encouraging anybody to wander on unholy ground. Time-out, home alone, doesn’t have to be intrepid, or guilt-ridden, by any means. But isn't there simply a sense of relief that, every once in a while, you know there is an opening where you can forget about keeping up appearances, remove undue effort, live without compromise and simply be who you really want to be, solo, or in company. Slouch, party, stay in bed...effortless you-time as you wish to use it.

This week I have come to consider these eagerly awaited fun moments in life, when the cat’s away, and how is it that have we managed to reach such a place. Life's responsibilities take over and, as the pass-out for time-out gradually becomes the exception rather than the rule, I wonder....what does that say about the other 300+days of our year when the cat stays home, and just where are we in the path from purr-fection to the mouse-trap?

The institutional path of life guides us from the innocence of youth, through study and work and, sooner or later, into relationships, marriage and kids. There are no rules on how you make this journey - some go about it faster or slower, some in a less Victorian order and, indeed, some have come back for the second time around. But, regardless of the flight path, for such large decisions that shape the next chapter of your life, what strikes me as strange is how any retrospective look back on time will always reminisce as the ‘good old days’ and I wonder …. is there an unavoidable point in the journey of life where we are obliged to compromise on who we really are, and close the door on the ‘you’ of youth?

Conversely, in a world where we are encouraged to explore individualism and live life to the max, is it in fact the case that we actually crave convention to control our destiny? In the life game of cat and mouse, I wonder …..is there safeguard in acquiring the cat that provides a get-out clause from admitting conformism or is it simply contentment for unconditional love that makes us feel more secure?

So, as the pitter-patter of 4 little feet evolve over time to 2 and onwards to a brood, do we need to stop and think about what is truly picture-purrfect, or I wonder...do we all proceed only in the comfort that every cat has 9 lives?

‘Til next time, Pandora