The bad news: you and I are underqualified for Today.
The good news: CAT recently achieved certification for the qualification that might save us.
Jaunty and brave, CAT is Today in tabby stripes. There has never been another day, and there may not be another day, but Today will be enough if we’ll take it seriously and take ourselves unseriously.
We are so terribly serious, you and me, even when we think we’re being buoyant and carefree. We jest and we jig and we jut out our elbows like generals, but we can’t quite look ourselves in the eyes. The lead balloon of Tomorrow is always with us, and let’s not even talk about the cement shoes of Yesterday. This is what leaves us underqualified for Today.
But CAT was born Today. CAT was born to be Today. And CAT can save the day for earnest earthbound creatures like you and me.
Several todays ago, CAT was a kitten. A kitten is handcrafted from just a few simple materials that Today always has on hand: courage, feathers, starlight and ears. But when CAT came from the kitten cloud, Today paused. Today cocked its head. Today took a handful of its own powers and tucked them into CAT’s inseams. Today gave a benediction.
Today gave us CAT. And ever since, CAT has been returning the favor.
This was not what the scientists and psychologists and theologians and meteorologists would have expected from CAT. Based on CAT’s yellowed yesterdays in a public shelter, CAT’s public shame of being spurned by his family, and CAT’s heavy necklace of Special Needs, CAT should have been grim, grief-grey, a porridge of serious self-protection. Trauma, neglect, and suffering are not generally the ingredients for Lighthearted Lasagna.
But expectations and Today have never gotten along on the playground.
And CAT was determined to play.
CAT was so determined, anything was within his reach. Had he wanted to dance, he would have become the prima ballerina for the Bolshoi. Had he wanted to rule, he would have become President of All Places and turned all places into Arby’s. Had he wanted to write, he would occupy the entire New York Times Best-Seller List.
But he set his sights higher. He wanted to acquire a certification that few beings attain while the day is still Today.
He wanted to be qualified (in all fifty states, territories, and also Vanuatu) as a Goofus.
This requires some clarification. Any living thing can be goofy. Goofosity is a river that runs through each life and makes it livable. Even in our sludgiest seriousness, we can be gripped by goof and so given a gulp of fresh air.
But to be a true Goofus, one must not be afraid to be a doofus.
One must not be afraid of yesterday or tomorrow.
One must not be afraid at all.
One must be composed of at least 49% Today.
And so it was that CAT, heavy necklace and howling history and all, came to achieve his dream. This happened long before we even met him, for CAT arrived at Tabby’s Place with that Lighthearted Lasagna in his paws, stacked on top of a Courage Casserole, with a little bucket of Giddy Gingersnaps for dessert.
(He has been asking us for just a few buckets of Brie in return ever since, but that’s another story for another Today.)
Unaccustomed to leaving Yesterday or Tomorrow for more than a few moments at a time, we were overcome. How could a cat who had crossed such dreary deserts be so day-dazzled? He had rightly earned so many chips on his shoulders, but instead he had wings. He should have been suspicious of people and safety and the rumored existence of kindness, but instead he was exultant.
We should have known: Today was here, dressed up in tabby stripes.
We would soon come to know what every Goofus knows: when Today is fully present, we’re safer than we think. Although he was just now technically safe for the first time in his life, CAT had carried that comfort with him ever since the kitten cloud. Now it was time to goof us up for good.
It is the work of his lifetime.
But CAT is so determined, anything is in his reach.
So CAT is treating us to Today with every chip of his confetti. In his one-cat Theater of the Absurd, he wraps us in his wings and lifts us into the moment, lead balloons and all. (CAT is as strong as he is silly, both required for his certification. A Goofus can carry anyone.)
CAT is convincing us to laugh when we feel low. It’s hard to keep chewing on your lower lip and fearing job loss when CAT is commanding a catnip rainbow to fly.
CAT is convincing us to loll when we feel frantic. It’s hard to pound yourself into “productive” powder when CAT is pleading for you to simply stroke his stripes, swirling shrimpishly and doing his best impressions of thirty varieties of mollusk.
CAT is convincing us that we’re as exceptionally acceptable as he is. Even when your sweater and your attitude are on backwards. Even when your concern for climate change can’t overcome my love of paper towels. Even when our bosses or sweethearts or senators suggest we are yesterday’s news. Even when we are mean or afraid (which are generally overlapping), or too jiggly or too sharp. Even when we are traumatized by tomorrow.
CAT is convincing us that the best thing we can do is to just all be creatures together for awhile.
CAT is convincing us that Today is where we live, together, and “together” can triumph over all our terrors and our regrets.
So have some lasagna. Take off the cement shoes. And start studying, because the next Goofus certifications are coming up.