If I was an animal, I would definitely choose to be a snow leopard.
Even though I dislike the cold intensely, as a snow leopard, I would not be bothered because of my warm coat.
Sitting at the top of the world in the Himalayas, I would enjoy a unique vision.
I would see for miles around, miles and miles in fact, and nobody would try to harm me because I would be so remote that almost nobody would be able to find me. I would just come out when I felt like it.
I would leap from rock to rock and take naps for hours at a time when I wasn’t leaping.
As I slept, I would dream of all the big leaps that are coming ahead.
I would leap over troubles.
I would leap over sorrow.
I would leap over past regrets.
There is nothing at all that would hold me back. I could explore anywhere I like.
Crawling on my belly through the snow, I would spy my prey from far away and make easy plans to get it. The goat, the sheep, I would be thankful for them and not wasteful when I made my kill.
Fearless I would be, with no known threats to my being, I would feel comfortable and at ease in myself on all the levels.
I would know I am strong.
I would know I am fleet of paw and mighty of tail.
I would know my coat is the most beautiful coat in the world and perfect for camouflage anytime I wanted to fade into the landscape undisturbed.
At times, I would spend days just walking and admiring the view.
Other days, I would simply delight myself by chasing my tail in circles.
And at night, when others are sleeping, I would simply listen to the stars.
The stars sing if you really listen, and my hearing is so acute I could make out the rhythm and the words, singing along in my heart with great delight.
So would I!
Dear Paul, Thank you so much for reading my blog. About a year ago, I had the privilege of visiting the snow leopard cubs at the Central Park Zoo in New York. They were SO playful and such excellent leapers! It reminded me of how much I need to play and enjoy every day, being fully alive to the beauty of each moment. Sending you love and light, Catherine Carrigan