This morning as I was struggling to get out of bed I saw the neighbor’s cat gracefully stretching on the stone wall between the gardens. His manner was full of purpose and ease; yet one eye on the birds. Could I have a cat’s heart full of grace and unpredictable joy? A cat’s will to go my own way? A cat’s curiosity to explore the world and a cat’s flexibility on my yoga mat? Today, for a passing moment, I dreamed of having a cat’s life.

The fat cat on the mat
may seem to dream
of nice mice that suffice
for him, or cream;
but he free, maybe,
walks in thought
unbowed, proud, where loud
roared and fought
his kin, lean and slim,
or deep in den
in the East feasted on beasts
and tender men.
The giant lion with iron
claw in paw,
and huge ruthless tooth
in gory jaw;
the pard dark-starred,
fleet upon feet,
that oft soft from aloft
leaps upon his meat
where woods loom in gloom —
far now they be,
fierce and free,
and tamed is he;
but fat cat on the mat
kept as a pet
he does not forget.
– JRR Tolkien