I had the honor of feeding the feral cat on our friary property 'bequeathed' to me for the months Brother Bruce travels to Vietnam. Brother Bruce is still there, in Vietnam, hoping to return to us in some 'new normal' time frame. 

Normally feeding the skittish cat is a rapid, mundane affair. She seems to want to spend time with you, but stays a safe distance away, startled at any sudden move. While Brother Bruce has been gone, she comes to the glass door of the friary at 4 PM every day and peers into the hallway hoping to garnish enough attention to alert her patrons that it would be a kindly thing if seeing her 'first step' in the food dance, someone might reciprocate and offer the next move.

Today was to be no different. There she was. Because of the base of the metal and glass door, one only sees the top half of her head - still - gazing - hoping - waiting ever so patiently. Taking the 'cue' another dance step ensues. First a quiet 'meow'. Then a startled jump toward the food portico. Then, she will turn around to make sure you are following in the same direction.  Stopping to purr as she snuggles and rubs her body on the corner of the adobe, there is a purposeful 'Stop!'. You learn that food is not the only priority in her life. She wants to spend time - with you - there - and that's it. I pause, waiting for her to finish her prelude, secretly hoping that appetite and hunger will speed this slooooow walk to the food bowl. 

Finally, the third act. We walk together like friars with a mission and purpose. Her on the left and me on the right. The pace is good and we are making good time. This will be over quickly and I can go back to my priorities and Br. Bruce's feral cat will be fed!

Locked door - unlocked. Cat food - check. Bowl filled - check. Water - check. I do pause to confirm that she eats, however, today was different. I did not pause, check and run. Today was different. What was I running to? So many missions, activities, gatherings, and obligations had been canceled. With the cancellations there were few pressing obligations. I did not 'have' to be anywhere at this time. So, I did something different. I stayed.  Watched the finicky, feral cat eat and stop. Push and pull.  Go to the bowl.  Leave the bowl and sit.  Go back to the bowl. Eat some more. She likes it when you talk low and slow.

It was kind of a communion of sorts. Me and the cat. 

A silver lining to all of this quarantine, self-isolation, and social distancing can be a rediscovery of what it FEELS like to not be obligated as much and to see more value in the present moment! Communion with nature, and communion with the few in our circle in a spirit of sabbath rest without the obstacle of those time constraints that were always pushing and pulling us here and there.  I am sure there are other silver linings to these dark clouds.  May we be sensitive to them as we venture forth together into this unknown, unseen land.