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Rozanne Paxman
Out of the Shadows
Shadow is a black cat whose is approximately half as large as a Volkswagen Beetle. He began life as the tiniest kitten imaginable. Two neighborhood boys thought he was ours when they found him half-drowned one rainy evening and delivered him to us. I told them he was not ours and that they should find his true home. But the boys told me no one wanted to claim him. When I felt ten eyes (those of the two boys, my daughter, my son, and the poor cat) pleading for me to allow the little black thing to stay, I caved and Shadow became a permanent resident.
Apparently, whatever had occurred in this cat's life prior to his arrival in our home was traumatic. I can only assume this because the gigantic beast is afraid of everything and rarely comes out to socialize with the family. When it is warm outside, he takes up residence under the lilac bush. When it is cold outside, he sleeps under our bed.
He is a successful sleuth, sneaking in and out of rooms so quietly that we normally don't notice him coming and going. However, he occasionally loses track of himself and finds that he has been shut in the bedroom for the night along with the dog. When this happens, he is forced to do something he hates. He has to make an appearance.
When I was a child, we played a game called Statues. The rules were simple. We would run about the yard flailing our limbs about as if we were going to lose control of ourselves. Suddenly, the person who was in charge of the game at the moment would yell, "Statues!" We would then freeze in place. The last one to move or giggle would win that round.
Shadow would make a first-class Statue player.
When he has been shut in the room with us and is forced to make himself known, he dashes for the door and freezes in place when he can't go any further. He turns into a statue mid-run; only his eyes rolling about wildly indicate that he is actually a living creature. If we don't see him standing there, he will maintain his stance for an incredibly long time. When his "statue" limit has been reached, he is forced to utter a pitiful "meow," something he considers a despicable step.
There have been rare but memorable events when Shadow has lost his fear and allowed us to pet him. This gentle giant has the softest, silkiest cat fur that I have ever touched. But it is on top of the heaviest tank of a cat. On the few occasions he has wished my company, he lets me know by dancing on my chest. Unfortunately though, because I want to avoid a trip to the hospital, I am forced to politely ask him to leave.
His manners seem to be better with men-folk. He allows Gary to pet him as he strides back and forth in front of the couch. (Is this what they refer to as male bonding?)
The thing about Shadow that strikes me most is this beautiful animal allows himself to be frozen with fear most of the time. He is large, capable, and has everything a cat could want out of life. And yet he literally is afraid of his own shadow (thus the name).
"There are some who never seem to believe themselves capable of anything; they see others press forward to attempt and achieve, and shrink back into a life desponding in activity. Having no faith in themselves, they undertake nothing and affect nothing. If they are convicted of some fault of bad habit, they have so little hope of being able to cure it that they scarcely make an effort. If some avenue or usefulness and honor opens before them, they draw back, almost sure they should not succeed, and decline to enter. If some duty presses urgently upon their conscience, they try to quiet its promptings by pleading inability. Thus their lives pass away in uselessness, their faculties do not develop or their characters improve, their abilities are wasted, they dwindle into insignificance, and all this, not for lack of power, but for the want of a confidence and courage that would set that power into good practical working order."
(Quotation published in a church magazine in Liverpool, England, in 1880.)
We live in a society that is steeped in fear. We are afraid of failure, what other people will think if we make errors, chemicals in our food, and the unseen boogey man who lives around the corner or who stalks us on the Internet.
Our fear is fueled by a media which is driven by the need to excite us. We see celebrities held up as God-like creatures when they certainly are not. They are simply human beings doing work that puts them in the public's eye. However, if these celebrities make mistakes – which they certainly do, the media feeding frenzy begins. It is difficult to say if the tumult is fueled by the public's desire to know what has happened or the media's desire to be the first to tell the most. But it is certain that every source that can find a hook into the story will do so. The frenzy only stops when the public feels as if they will scream upon hearing one more thing about the topic.
But I believe the worst part of all is the residual fear left with the public after the feeding frenzy is over. People become afraid to do, to be, to try. They are afraid that if they strike out and fail, they will be poked at and sent home to bed without supper. They feel they must be perfect in everything they do or the doing isn't worthwhile.
Fear will come. We will feel it, experience it, live with it, and know it. To experience fear is to be human. I believe only those who are supremely afraid will be viewed as weak and incapable and will fail to admit they have been (and are) afraid sometimes.
I believe having courage simply means that you have gone where fear told you not to go.
Courage. That is what Shadow needs... just a little bit of courage to lie on my lap and let me pet him. I'll bet he would find it fairly agreeable if he would only try the experiment. But unless this gentle giant of a cat tries it, he will never know how much his fear is causing him to miss.
Shadow: A black cat that is half the size of a small car. Shadow: a life-teacher wearing a soft, black fur suit.
- Ro
P.S. I would show you a picture of Shadow, but he has successfully managed to stay out of photographs for the many years we have owned him. He has an uncanny ability to know when you are even considering taking a photo of him... assuming that you know where he is located at any given moment... which you usually do not. (Update: I first ran this muse in 2007. I still have not managed to get a photo of Shadow!)
Muse: To be absorbed in one's thoughts; engage in meditation. Not intended to solve the world's problems, another person's problems, or to cover topics completely. One does not have to agree with musings to enjoy them, just as one does not have to be the same as someone else to appreciate who they are.
Would you like to earn a $20 Gift Certificate? Send your own muse to [email protected]. If it is selected for publication in the Scrap Girls newsletter, you'll get to have fun shopping!
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