The Cat Who Walks by Himself

It's just me. It's always been just me. That's just the way it is. I've never been any different, and I don't know how to change, or if I want to.

My yard needs mowing desperately, and it's to the point that I'd be better off to hire a landscaping service just once, and then keep up with it. But I won't. I have a push mower, and the ability, and I will mow the entire fucking acre myself, bit by bit, until it's done. Because I'm me, and it's just me, and that's just how I roll.

Friends and neighbors have offered to help me with various chores. I usually either decline, or the task is done before they can help. Or I've had some task I could have used assistance on, but neglected to ask anyone. If I get called on it, my reply is that it didn't occur to me to ask.

I've had problems and heartaches like anyone else, and wonderful friends who are willing to lend an ear, or a shoulder to lean on. But they always find out about those problems after the fact, after I have dealt with them and my crisis is over. They say, "I'm here. Why didn't you call me?" The answer? "I had to process this myself."

Recently, my hubby and I were conversing about our teenage years, and what our families were like. He shared several stories, and I told him that for me, I usually did things on my own. I kept to myself and did my own thing, my family in the background. I always pretty much did my own thing, unless there was some family thing imposed on me. Usually my own thing consisted of staying in my room and reading, but occasionally I went to a friend's house, or out with a friend, or to a sleepover.

I knew I would have to ask for permission, but for me it was more of a formality. My teenage years were ones of marking time until I could get out. Not that I had a bad family. Like most, it had its quirks, but was rather much like any typical family. What I couldn't wait for was being able to make my own decisions, without having to defer to someone else or ask permission.

My husband said, "That explains a lot."

That's just who I am. I'm smart, if occasionally a bit naive. I am competent and have a brain perfectly capable of making decisions. Sometimes I have to cut through the mental chatter to get to the heart of the matter and crystallize what the problem really is, but I'm able to do that. I rarely ask for advice, and when I do it's more of an information gathering mission, to help me better decide what to do. Not that I'm going to do what's been advised to me. Often, my decision has already been reached, and asking for an opinion is more of a formality to those who expect to be included.

I know that sometimes that mindset causes friends and family to feel left out. The thing is, whatever the decision or task, the outcome falls on my shoulders. I may either succeed, or fail spectacularly, but I bear the brunt of whatever that outcome is. I'd rather know that the result comes from my own competence (or lack thereof), than be left wondering if things would have worked out differently if I hadn't done what so-and-so suggested.

One story that has long resonated with me is "The Cat Who Walks by Himself" by Rudyard Kipling. The First Woman is using her magic and wiles to call various animals to her, and one by one, the dog, horse, cow, sheep and pig come to her and become domesticated. The cat, using his own wiles and cleverness, manages to charm and bargain his way into being able to share the First Family's home and receive the creature comforts all the other animals now enjoy, while still maintaining his own independence. "I am the Cat  who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me," he often states.

He keeps up with his end of the bargain, and enjoys the family's comforts, but "When the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone."

I love my family and friends. I love and enjoy conversation, laughter, hugs, the close moments, and even the sad moments. I wrap up in these things like a blanket. But when I am saturated, and it's time to leave, I am once again the Cat Who Walks by Herself and all places are alike to me.

It's just the way I'm made. I doubt that will ever change, nor do I think I want to.

The point to this post? There really isn't one. I just felt like writing, and this is what bubbled up. There's not much purpose to it unless you're just interested in what makes me tick.