Last updated on 13/08/2021
Hi, I’m Rainbow MagnifiCat from selfcarecoaching.net
Self care comes easier for us cats than it seems to for humans.
I know Evie is in awe of how I make life on earth seem so easy, effortless and enjoyable so I’ve agreed* to share some cat coaching each week as she translates for me.
She has a little practice translating for me from our old Purrfection Pawsonified blog and I know she does her best. Evie’s old blog, with years and years of self care coaching tools failed to propagate over to the new site last year and she lost it all. But our joint venture has stood the test of time.
I’d say I hope you enjoy it/find it beneficial but I’m a cat. We don’t really need external validation like you humans.
We accept adoration and belly rubs. Sometimes.
I have so much wisdom that Evie wants me to share with you – around confidence, resilience, boundaries, self talk, finding what feels good and more.
Evie has also asked me to welcome any questions. What would you like to know from your cat coach?
But for today, I’m coming to you from my favourite comfort zone, under the duvet.
Apart from when I wanted snuggles, I was never really an under the duvet kind of cat until we moved to Ireland just over 5 months ago.
It was a long (17.5 hour) journey and when we arrived at the B&B, I could smell all the other pet smells. Evie kept saying how lucky we’d been to get a pet friendly room with just 9 days notice about the actual move and I know that she’d been worried (our rental wouldn’t be ready for another week) but I was overwhelmed by all the noises and smells and movement.
So I stayed under the duvet. Evie had brought our own from Essex, in the UK, so I could still smell some familiar smells.
It was warm, dark and comfortable. I could accept adoration from Eve and other humans meeting and checking in on me but I was snug.
At night, I started to come out more. Climbing the curtains and wardrobe, mostly to reassure Evie that I was OK after the trip but also because my curiosity outweighed my desire to stay under the duvet.
I overheard Liz Gilbert say similar on an interview Evie was listening to recently. You can catch it HERE if you’re interested.
We moved to the studio after a week and I hid under the duvet in the sleep cupboard (there wasn’t a bedroom there) for weeks. It was a rental Evie had chosen for me – cat friendly and loads of outdoor space and trees but I was staying under that duvet.
Evie had worried about keeping me in for the two weeks but there was no danger of me going anywhere.
And because I let myself stay where I felt comfortable and safe and secure, I was soon exploring. There were high cupboards for me to scale and I gave Evie purpose, meaning and joy by letting her be a bridge and ladder for me.
She’s written about productive struggle but knows I’m a full grown cat now so could indulge me.
This is another lessons you humans might learn from us cats. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. Sometimes I’d mew. Other times I’d just LOOK at Evie and she’d leap up to offer her back or shoulder, smiling and saying, ‘Purpose and meaning’.
Just when Evie started wondering if maybe I’d become an indoor cat, I began showing signs of interest in The Great Outdoors, I quickly learned to scale the half door so she could leave it open for me but the dogs couldn’t chase me all the way in.
And now we’ve moved again. 11 days ago. Three times in under five months. That’s it now, she tells me.
I’m back under the duvet loads as well as scaling doors and shelves and furniture.
My point is that my being under the duvet isn’t hiding so much as finding a secure spot from which I can think about my next steps.
I’m not stressed. OK, I’ve been a bit stressed but, again, that’s normal. I’m not beating myself up about it. Change can be discombulating.
One day, someone was over and Evie went to show them the lump under the duvet but couldn’t see it. She later found me inside the pillow case. I know she’s allergic and generally avoid the pillows so she can breathe better but my need was greater on this occasion.
Later that night, I snuck out the front door. Evie did my whistle over and over but I’d pop back to show her the glint in my eyes (she struggles to see me in the dark) before exploring the new Great Outdoors.
I think we’ll be very happy here but she has me on lockdown for another few days so I don’t get lost.
I know I can be a great adventurer, exploring the garden and fields, befriending the other cats and cows and sheep.
But for now, the duvet is my friend.
I’m not judging myself for it and encourage Evie to take more naps and regroup as she adjusts to the newness, navigating leaks etc.
Obviously, you’re welcome to take away whatever you want to take away from this cat coaching post but my main message is that cats rock.
We know we rock.
Whatever we do, we have a level of confidence and surety that Evie has said she wishes she could bottle for herself and clients who want more confidence.
Evie says she called me Rainbow partly because I’m a black cat and black absorbs all the colours of the spectrum and also, to remind herself to accept and love all aspects of my personality. Even when I climb onto her face at 3am. I know she loves me.
Why wouldn’t she? I’m adorable!
But you humans are adorable in your own way, too. You lack the glossy fur, agility and many other feline qualities but you have your own strengths.
What might your life be like if instead of trying to ignore that part of you that wants – maybe even needs – to hide out under the duvet once in a while, you indulged yourself?
What if you recognised that your body has a huge amount of animal wisdom for you to access when you just listen to what you need? That comfort zones can be helpful?
Miaow for now,
*Eve here. The Bow and I understand each other but I also know she is a cat. I’m imagining not really translating