"The tail that wags the dog". A well known expression...a movie title even. We have all witnessed the reality of it-in business, in relationships, in life. Generally this imbalance (or ANY imbalance) is viewed as detrimental and often it is. Living it though, breathing it- defining it. This is something else completely. Not healthy to view your state of being as diseased. Hahaha-I would say it is more nature and instinct. I am not dismissing free will, not in the least-I am merely pointing out that when wrought with sensory and emotional sensitivity-self control and judgement occasionally are shoved into the backseat and told to shut up. Now!
Just to clarify, Wiktionary defines "the tail wagging the dog" as:
The reversal of a normal control-reaction relationship. Often used in reference to relationships of authority and subjugation. Normally a dog wags its tail, not the other way around. To have misplaced priorities, with the less important part controlling the main thing.
To start at the beginning...Your welcome, this will be much clearer than starting mid process -where I often like to begin. I firmly believe that woman-kind are much more feline, than canine in nature. Not an original notion, but again-cliches become such for a reason. A few basic characteristics qualify females as catlike. With the exception of tripping over our stilettos from time to time, we tend to be more graceful than lumbering. We also love with discretion and for those of us who are doing it right-we lounge just inside the bounds of blue ember hot and hypothermia cold. For a comparison of puppy love and kitty love I offer the following analogy: Exhibit A:
When dragging yourself through the front door after a tiresome day, your dog will rise without delay from his spot in the sun and saunter up, tail wagging gratefully and lick your face. He proceeds to grab your paper and lay his head in your lap before sacrificing his entire body on (not at) your feet where he will remain whether or not you reciprocate his attentions. On the other paw, your cat gazes sideways imperceptibly toward the door and continues preening at a calculated pace. She observes and assesses. Then when she is certain that she has your full attention, she stretches languidly and nonchalantly glides across the room. She acknowledges your presence by brushing her body slowly against your leg. If you do not reach down and stroke her, she struts away as if the whole ugly thing never happened. She will however, hold a grudge against you for this act of neglect and you will have to earn your way back into her good graces. Sound familiar?
Dogs make no qualms about their devotion. For this, I am quite certain is why they have earned their position as "Man's Best Friend" -they are adorably low maintenance and free if not reckless with their affections. They are sweetly simple. Cats although likely loyal, require daily attention in exchange for their affections-tit for tat, give and take. Literally each sunrise brings with it a new beginning-a gift to be opened-according to her feline timing. They keep their dedication to you on the down low and keep the relationship captivatingly subtle. A cat will allow herself to be held, even relish it-but she has to choose. When, where, how... A puppy, yours for life-no question...a cat(though likely not going anywhere as long as her needs are met) makes you wonder if she might exchange her life with you for a better one. Dogs and cats do share the excitability factor. There is a range of two definitive emotions in both...bliss and fury...these extremes are just manifested in different ways. I could go on, but I am straying from the point at hand...paw.
So I am FINALLY prepared to spin the tail wagging the dog, rather than the dog wagging the tail. In my felininity (new word- do you like it? Hang on, more where that came from)it is the purr, or rather the motivation for the purr that drives this Kitten. I am fully, achingly aware that as an allegedly mature woman...the kitten should have complete control of her purr. If I am honest (which I strive to be- there are definitely instances where I should be a smidge less honest), my purr is a lose canon. When and where and how my purr will break free is a often a mystery-even to me. This is a bit of a confession, which secretly I have always wanted to do- confess, that is. To unload all my spiritual and emotional secrets on some wise, darkened Listener who is forbidden to disclose a single tid-bit to another soul-ever. Very enticing-probably where the whole Thorn Birds mystique/attraction derived, Scarlet Letter too- although that didn't end so well.
Back to the point, I am a reticent slave to my impulses...I am able to escape my bonds occasionally-when my wardens are preoccupied, but my purr remains the underlying and ultimate goal of my every endeavor- conscious or unconscious. Overall, I am like an infant when it comes to my resistance,desires and passions. Thankfully I am much more cat-like in my tactics. This disclosure is not a boast, but an admission. It seems to be so much healthier, simper and zen to exist in a dependable, predictable balance...to be more dog like. As it is, I control my uncontrolability by avoiding certain places, people and things because it is easier than controlling my mouth, my actions, my thoughts...well you get the point. In short, I am really not a grown up at all...but a kitten...meow...
This unfortunate condition of mine is a fork in the road of reasonable existence. I have come to blame my senses (or in keeping with the cat metaphor-my instincts)for being forever frozen at an exceedingly heightened state. With one exception. I was born with a condition (hahaha not so fast, bet you were thinking "that explains a lot"). A condition that allows me to only see color and shrouded shape through one eye. Deep down I have always blamed this physical weakness for my mental, emotional and spiritual short sightedness. Makes sense if you are me. That's right, don't even try...
In compensation for my lack of foresight and literal sight...my ears pick up the slightest sound, hearing the hesitance, frustration or anticipation in something as basic as a breath. My fingers take in every texture, sensing exhilaration and resistance with a mere stroke...my favorite trick of all though, kneading my claws. Tongue tasting and exploring flavors ranging from delectable to bitter...Nose- inhaling the most subtle musk and faintest floral. All feeding my soul and causing the coordinating reaction in my body-twitching my tail and igniting my purr. It follows unfortunately, that my sensory system picks up the slightest trace of unpleansantry. Each sense has a penetrating, seemingly unreignable affect on me. My emotions and actions taking cues from my surroundings and are often set astray by changes in the climate. So this heightened sensual awareness- makes me more instinctive, more intuitive, causes me to gravitate eternally toward the things that indulge my senses and in so doing- soothe my soul. For those that do soothe my soul there are no limits, hence the purr factor. When multiple senses drink in too much, or receive too little input, I become unpredictable. Well...like a cat.
So the senses rule the purr...but the heart-the heart, rules the senses. Like a protective big sister, she relentlessly bullies her way into every situation. Imagine having a Chow, Pit-Bull mix for a Seeing Eye Dog- She has taken it upon herself to ...compensate for my lack of vision...often I see things through the eyes of my emotions rather than for what they are in reality because she has usurped power over my mind. She plays the role of the single eye the Graeae hags (the senses-and btw there are more than five, who knew?) of mythology share- her visions dictate my future actions and reactions. It is she that keeps my judgement pinned in the backseat, afraid to speak.
Felines indulge in bliss and fight discomfort with a vengeance...aka cat-fight. In the same way, Violators of my senses and spirit (and more so, of those that I hold dear) will be clawed and bitten in my fight to free myself (or them) from the factors of life that offend the system. You should hear me hiss. It is very impressive.
In short...I am a kitten hunting for the sensual experiences that make me purr... and using my nine lives to fight the villainous obstacles that threaten the ebb and flow of this existence. Like a cat, it is innate and instinctive-nature. Not what I have chosen, but who I am.
What this looks like is a not so subtly chaotic...A blur of shine and sparkle, bold colors in brilliant shades of Vincent proportions. Tainted on the edges with a fragrance that tickles my nostrils ranging from sultry sweet vanilla to fresh freesia, midnight pomegranate to summer lilac...mmmmmm and coconut! Tongue searching out the extreme flavors, in salt and spice and sugary sweet... The touch of luxurious textures...smoothe-granite...feathery light. Increasing and decreasing pressures-in the tempting tango of the tender tickle and the shiver evoking grasp. Heart longing for the comfort of a favorite blanket, the memories recaptured by a treasured trinket, the tears evoked by a beloved song, the purr brought forth by the tempered touch or those perfect words-delivered in the melodic tone at that one moment- filling my ears...mixed with a bottle of passion infused with the essence of emotion and a dash of thoughtfulness, perspective, introspectiveness and wisdom to taste. When baked in intense heat or frozen in frigid temperatures- the result is indubitably feline.
Hmmm...and there it is.
Oh well, at least I will always land on my feet...so I have that going for me, which is good...
Not hopeless or helpless...not justifiable or defensible...like everything, it has it's benefits and detriments...I have no choice but to embrace my inner kitty and make her purr whenever her requests are reasonable...Although I may not be the best judge of reason...he is still being held hostage by my tyrant of a heart. I am however an expert on instinct and intuition.
Here kitty kitty...
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