Some days you come into work and it is hard to get going. The brain is a bit slow, and eight hours seems like some great odyssey. Other days, you bound in ready to diem that old carpe. You attack your work with gusto, and the time blinks by.
Today, I found a third way to come into work. It is when you come into work and find a giant papier-mâché cat head on your desk. Yep, all else sort of fades when staring back at you from your vacant office are the brown bulging eyes of a cat-sort-of-creature wearing a top hat.
I didn’t know where this head had come from, but that didn’t matter at a time like this. What mattered is that I make room for my new friend immediately. So I moved the portrait I had painted of my wife, and placed the cat head atop my bookshelf.
And so it goes. The thoughts and worries about the impending day, had on the commute, vanished. In a moment, everything changed. It made me think. How many times do I obsess about mental plans that get dashed by the unexpected? How often do I worry about what never really gets a chance to manifest? Have I somehow become some serial killer’s plaything? The truth is, I don’t really know much at all. I don’t know what adventures (or misadventures) wait behind any given door. There are good surprises and bad surprises, and then surprises like this one—neither good nor bad, and mostly weird.
And, again, so it goes. Life is a strange, unexpected journey filled with strange, unexpected things. Some of these things hurt deeply and some lift us from the muck and mire, and some leave us happily perplexed. But I do know this—or I’m trying to learn it, at least—if I am not open to that which I cannot control, I’ll miss life altogether. Living is in the accepting. The tough things. The great things. The cats’ heads the world brings to our desks. Accepting, growing, and making room on the shelf.