Let Go or Be Dragged

During a particularly frosty winter in my younger years, my best friend and I discovered a frozen, dead, cat. I knew the cat belonged to an elderly neighbor and I remember the special ache I felt for her loss. At 6 or 7 years old I was so devastated I convinced myself there was a slight chance it was still alive and merely was being very still. I decided the best thing to do was to take the frozen feline by its tail and drag it to my home in order for my mother to officially call it. My friend begged me not to touch it, she insisted it was dead and I needed to leave it be, but I couldn't. I grasped the icicle tail even more firmly and pulled the dirty popsicle,  formerly known as a pet, down the street as though it were my radio flyer wagon.

Since that fateful frigid day I have had a problem with dragging and being dragged by frozen dead cats of every variety… I let go of relationships a decade too late, only after forces much stronger than myself peel each begrudging finger off one by one. I tend to rehash conversations that felt tense or I believed somehow could be decoded into the hinge points where everything went south. I tend to have a difficult time forgiving myself for finding the frozen cat a minute too late or wondering if I only had sprinted down the slippery streets a little more quickly…would I have made a difference. When a past love, bad habit or unproductive thought process sneak in, I am quick to believe there is a glimmer of hope. I convince myself again that the cat isn't dead but is only being very still.

There are many strange metaphors and allegories warning us about getting stuck in the past. I recognize a frozen dead cat likely ranks among the most peculiar and somewhat gross of metaphors. However, I think at the end of the day the cautionary tales about looking back are strikingly stranger than most because the past is a particularly dangerous place to dwell. One needs to fear becoming a pillar of salt or a frozen dead cat in order to avoid it! Most of us are so allured by the past we blaze by the WARNING: YOU ARE ABOUT TO INHABIT A SPICE RACK or BEWARE OF DEAD CAT signs regardless…

Living in the past is most toxic because it renounces our ultimate hope in the future. The year I battled cancer in someways was the best year of my life because it required both hands. I had no extra space or time to worry or analyze bygones, and I certainly didn't have a free hand to take any past cats by the tail. I had to put every ounce of energy into fighting for my future. I had to without a doubt believe that my hopes and the deepest, most righteous desires of my heart inhabited my future. I had to believe that what it required me to leave behind was less valuable than what awaited me in my future.
This isn't to say that I don't have days where I wish to vacation in the past. It isn't to say that there aren't occasions where I don't miss the trivial things cancer required me to leave behind i.e. thinner body, more money, typical college experiences, perfect vision, or not having to explain my medical history on every date…
Even though I promised myself once I was safely in remission I would leave my past and live for my present, I constantly battle the tendency to reach for the cat's tail. I even find myself reverting back, seeking the silliest of things. Without fail I have a dream every six months about cleaning the house/ providing childcare for a former flame and his wife while they go on a date... (This is an individual who seldom, if ever crosses my stream of consciousness) I find myself reminiscing about my 17 year old figure and the simplicity of dating in this era. I worry when a former friend I haven't seen in a decade won't accept my Facebook friend request. Needless to say, we all get stuck sometimes.

Regardless of my stumbles I am grateful for the experiences that continue to shake me awake, and for friends who remind me to leave the cat alone. I am grateful to be present in a future that few anticipated I would have. Most especially I am humbled by the reminder that "faith always points toward the future."