regal indoor queen
Disclaimer: This newsletter edition talks about the loss of a fur baby. If that's not for you today, that's totally okay. Please skip this one.
Many years ago, after some big life events, I moved back in with my parents.
My childhood cat, Ishtar, was still thriving at the time. She was a wild little thing as a kitten with an untameable spirit. But by the time I returned home, she had mellowed out into a regal indoor queen who preferred soft blankets and easy meals.
We quickly slipped into a lovely rhythm. She’d wait for me to get home on her favourite set of drawers, follow me around the house like my own personal shadow and curl up in the exact same spot on my bed every night. In what was a very difficult time, her quiet companionship meant the world.
Isn’t it incredible how animals just know?
Eventually, the time came to say goodbye.
She was old, and she passed peacefully.
My heart broke. I was utterly devastated.
A few weeks later, my mum reminded me that I had apparently always wanted a Ragdoll cat (I don’t quite remember saying that. I think there was some projection happening).
Long story short, the stars aligned, and suddenly I had a fluffy little Ragdoll kitten in my life. I was excited and thrilled and instantly in love - right?
Wrong.
I mean, everyone loves a cute kitten, and I did too. But something wasn’t right. He wasn’t waiting for me to get home the way Ishtar did. He didn’t sleep where she slept. He was adorable and lovely and sweet and fun…but not the same.
And it somehow just made the grief even deeper.
I’ve been reflecting on this lately and how even when something new is good and objectively wonderful, we still find ourselves clinging to the comfort of what was. In yogic philosophy, this is called Rāga, or attachment. But what has been truly playing on my mind is that we also push away beautiful new things just because they’re unfamiliar and not what we know (Dveṣa).
Sometimes, we consciously practice letting go.
Other times, life demands it of us.
Whether it's a kitten, a job, a relationship, a home, or a stage of life, change stirs the fluctuations of the mind that we yogis are always learning to balance.
It’s been 11 years now. That kitten curls up beside me in his own spot. He’s funny and fluffy and entirely his own being. He didn’t fill a gap, he carved out his own space in my world. And I adore him.
So maybe this story is just a reminder to myself that different doesn’t mean loss. The new thing doesn’t have to be the old thing. Allow things to be what they are, not what we expect them to be.
Also, I really love my cat and wanted to share a pic of him.
Wishing you all of the cosy naps and warm cups of tea.
With love,
P.S. On the note of slowing down and letting go, our next Yin Yoga & Meditation Teacher Training with our freshly rebranded teacher training school, Kaya Academy, begins next Friday night. No need to want to actually teach Yin & Meditation (but we will show you how anyways), rather, think of it like a Friday night retreat with others in the community also keen to pause and reflect.