I'm in a zoo, by a paddock hundreds of yards wide. An elephant family lives here. But a man by me says "It's not big enough--such close confinement distorts their lives so much they're NOT elephants!"

Well, that's extreme. Is a city man not a man? Solitary confinement can drive anyone crazy, but these have each other and room to interact, plus hordes of amusing talkative monkeys to watch. Of course it's cramped, but wilderness has stresses too; elephants are smart and adaptable. Circus performers and slaves in Asia are still elephants--totally unnatural lifestyles, but they have relationships and jobs. Enough to keep you sane.

As if to respond, a matriarch lounges over to a palm tree and luxuriantly scratches her big gray butt on it right by her critic. Clearly enjoying herself--and just possibly commenting about him. Did she understand his denial they're real elephants?

Now it's time for me enter the paddock. After all, I'm a creature myself--a big cat. I feel meek, shy--not a fighter. A cheetah perhaps? I fear the lions & leopards; hide in a grove, peer out. Need to cross a meadow, but I feel wary. Plan a route near trees I can climb, if the fiercer cats attack.

At last I venture out timidly. It's windy. I think of another way I could escape predators: by flying. I used to manage it--can I still? Face into the wind, spread my legs--I have skin flaps like a flying squirrel! But more than that--I can spread my aura--my energy field--to catch the wind.

Leap into the wind... and rise. Awkward and slow, like a clumsily steered kite, but rise!

I can leave the paddock now! But... am I just a helpless leaf in the wind? Or can I steer across it? Into it?

Steering my own cat-course.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Trapped critters: in Neil Gaiman's The Books of Magic, ex-succubus Leeah ends up trapped alone. I identified with her--I too am a creature trying to escape--in my case, the cramped paddock of chronic illness.
• Fly as a cat: in The Books of Magic, Tim Hunter, boy mage, needs to cross town fast so he turns into a winged cat.
• Wind lifts me: reading! Stories do lift me out of my ill body. But push me in their directions too--their values and expectations.
• ACTION: Quit getting blown around by books! Or by fate. Lifelong illness has made following plans hard for me--illness always disrupts things--but these last few years I've begun to heal. It's time to start steering toward... what? Beyond freedom from the paddock, what ARE my goals? Time to rise high and look around.

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