Of Molehills becoming Mountains then Molehills Again

Animal, Mole, Garden, Meadow, Molehill

Last time I wrote about the importance of having an objective view of my own attitudes and behavior, relying on inner guidance to help gain such a viewpoint. This past two weeks I have experienced a good example.  I aim to be mindful, balanced, wise and strong.  Yet in my human states of consciousness, I remain riddled with frailty and blind spots.

I have a tendency to overreact to or to dramatize the glitches that invariably come along to spice up daily living. This week that lesson was remarkably in view!  It started with a minor mishap involving my dear cat Emily, then it expanded and bloomed into two trips to Urgent Care, threatening letters from the department of health, my fearful reaction, and then a positive resolution.

The molehill:

My dear Emily loves to curl up under the covers for warmth and security. Usually she does this just for a brief time, but on one night two weeks ago, she fell asleep there as I was also sleeping.  Early morning, My dog Sophie heard something outside so she barked. This startled me so I jerked up, which startled Emily so she propelled herself out from under the sheet, launching out from the sheets by digging in her rear claws from a rather sensitive area on my chest.  I cleaned the wound, which had drawn some blood, with an antibacterial ointment and kept it clean for the next several days. I became worried, though, when family and friends expressed concerns that cat scratches could get infected.

Mountains, Snow, Sunset, Dusk, Twilight

The mountain:

10 days later I was concerned at how the wound was still very painful; plus after wearing a large bandaid all day I removed it and the adhesive had caused a rash. So, off to Urgent Care. Now when I told my story there of what had occurred, the staff was compelled to file papers with the department of health because a pet that should have been up to date on rabies vaccinations was involved.

Emily was overdue by just a few months on her rabies shot. So, I received a call and letters from the dept of health threatening that if I could not produce evidence of her vaccination, Em would need to be confined for ten days and some hefty fines were due.  After one phone call which seemed to clear some of it up, I thought this would pass but then received another set of even more threatening mail.

The vet had told me they could not even set an appointment to vaccinate her because I had received these letters; not until the department of health would say they could proceed.

That night I worried deeply. Would they come to take away my sweet little Emily? She is an indoor cat, perfectly healthy, and all this was just a freak accident. I called upon spiritual guidance and understanding but had trouble getting any sleep.

My dear Emily and Sophie

The molehill again:

The next morning bright and early I called a number from the letter.  A man whose last name ironically reminded me of Spirit talked to me and helped me understand that it was going to be okay. The ten days had passed and so long as I could get Emily vaccinated by a certain date, the fine would be cut in half.  He would contact the vet; we could go in. (Currently I am awaiting our appointment but feel much relieved.)

So what was my lesson here? To trust that no matter how out of proportion things might seem, things will be okay by reaching out to communicate with all concerned. Also though, I got to see how my own fears sometimes magnify a situation.

When I dwell mainly in my emotions about a situation, my mind can spin out of control.  I need to work on this; living humanly alone means I do not always have someone right at hand that I can reason things out with when needed. Except for inner guidance.

Trust is a big lesson, always.

Hand, Child, Sweet, Infant, Trust, God
images are from pixabay.com