The Consolation of Schrodinger
While the Gentle Author takes a holiday, we are celebrating the joys of the season with a HARVEST SALE, selling all our books at half price so you can treat yourself and your friends and family. Simply add code ‘HARVEST’ at checkout to claim your discount.
CLICK HERE TO VISIT THE SPITALFIELDS LIFE BOOKSHOP
I believe most will agree that life is far from easy and that dark moments are an inescapable part of human existence. When I feel sad, when I feel confused, when I feel conflicted, when it all gets too much and my head is crowded with thoughts yet I do not even know what to do next, I lie down on my bed to calm myself.
On such an occasion recently, I was lying in a reverie and my consciousness was merging with the patterns of the changing light on the ceiling, when I heard small footsteps enter the room followed by a soft clump as Schrodinger landed upon the coverlet in a leap.
I lifted my head for a moment and cast my eyes towards him and he looked at me askance, our eyes meeting briefly in the half-light of the shaded room before I lay my head back and he settled himself down at a distance to rest.
I resumed my contemplation, trying to navigate the shifting currents of troubling thoughts as they coursed through my head but drifting inescapably into emotional confusion. Suddenly my mind was stilled and halted by the interruption of the smallest sensation, as insignificant yet as arresting as a single star in a night sky.
Turning my head towards Schrodinger, I saw that he had stretched out a front leg to its greatest extent and the very tip of his white paw was touching my calf, just enough to register. Our eyes met in a moment of mutual recognition that granted me the consolation I had been seeking. I was amazed. It truly was as if he knew, yet I cannot unravel precisely what he knew. I only know that I was released from the troubles and sorrow that were oppressing me.
When he was the church cat, Schrodinger lived a public life and developed a robust personality that enabled him to survive and flourish in his role as mascot in Shoreditch. After two years living a private domestic life in Spitalfields, he has adapted to a quieter more intimate sequestered existence, becoming more playful and openly affectionate.
At bedtime now, he leaps onto the coverlet, rolling around like a kitten before retreating – once he has wished me goodnight in his own way – to the sofa outside the bedroom door where he spends the night. Thus each day with Schrodinger ends in an expression of mutual delight.
You may also like to read about
Schrodinger’s First Year in Spitalfields
It is lovely how Schroedinger has settled to his new existence. But I am sure his playful and serene countenance is due to his companion and roommate. You have made him the cat his is today just as he has made you the gentle author you are.
I am so intrigued with that coverlet.
Is there a story or history to that coverlet? Will you share it?
I have known those moments when Life is too much a gentle tap of a paw brings you back. A beautiful piece, GA, keep well.
They know. How and what they know is a mystery, buy they feel something. From the picture you posted yesterday, I can tell he is even more at home now than a few months ago. Lucky Schrodinger and lucky you.
What a touching story… reducing me to tears as I read it.
Cats have a way of of knowing how one feels, and I can just feel the touch of that paw as I felt it similarly from my own beloved cat Bertie (known affectionately as ‘the Bertol’), also a beautiful black & white fellow. Sadly he passed away in the Spring of 2020, a great loss during Lockdown.
Schrodinger, however, looks in the best of health and very much at home in your charming Spitalfields surroundings. Oh lucky cat, having landed on all four paws!
Lovely photographs. And yes, also love the ‘coverlet’.
You write beautifully – may you both flourish in peace.
This post resonated with me. 15 years ago I was very seriously ill and between hospital visits my beautiful tortoiseshell cat Susie was my comfort and salvation. I had a 6 month period where I was mainly bedridden, she rarely left me. Animals definitely know when you are ill and in pain or distress.
Sadly Susie had to be put to sleep 7 years after my recovery, but our kind vet let us spend time alone with her before he gave the injection, it was very precious to be able to say goodbye. I sometimes dream of her and she tells me in cat speak not to worry because she is free from pain and happy.
Schrodinger is a very handsome fellow, but so was Mr Pussy.
The needed comfort of a paw and fur, a feeling of company at a dark, bewildering time. .’O still small voice of calm’. How I miss that, except through memory. Your writing was a welcomed reminder.
Mr. Schrodinger is a Lucky, Beautiful Pussy. Love You Schrodinger!!??????
Fascinating account. Always a dog person, I’m thinking of what goes on behind the inscrutable cat face. Maybe I was influenced by the decerebrate cat preparation presented to us students at the London Hospital ie the cat as automaton. We also never had cats as family pets. Thanks.