Column: Rest Like a Cat — The Overlooked Art of Relaxation and Self-Care

By Nancy Turner

Nancy Turner

The Dalles, Ore. July 29, 2024 — When the temperature dropped from 105 to 85 degrees the other day, I did a little gardening. I got tired and really sweaty. It's too hot to do anything outside. We should be resting, not working.

Rest?

What's that?

In a capitalistic culture that believes more is better, and promotes consumption, resting is not valued nearly enough. We are identified by what we do, and what we accomplish, not what we avoid. Even so, in English, we have over fifty synonyms for rest. Not the 'rest' as in something remaining, like, 'the rest of the papers.' I'm referring to words like relax, idle, slow down, loll, and even lollygag. The problem is we don't use them enough, let alone consider how important rest is to our health, mental agility, and longevity.

The Inuits in Alaska have possibly (depending on who's counting) over seventy words for snow. In Greenland, they have over forty. The Scots have 421 for snow. For example: feefle (swirling snow,) flindrikin (a brief snow shower,) and spitters (small flakes of wind-driven snow.) Swedes have twenty-five. When something is important, the language notes the various nuances and subtle meanings.

My best models of how to rest are cats. They lounge around, confident we are working to provide their shelter and food. They don't even read a book or watch Netflix. They loaf. All day. The Dali Lama said, given how well we treat dogs, he wants to reincarnate as a dog in America. I want to return as a cat living with an old lady who rescues cats.

A friend of mine has three indoor/outdoor cats, all rescues, and she feeds a couple of feral ones outside. A few months ago a very young stray appeared on her back porch. Debra fed the little black kitten. None of the other cats liked this new one. Even when the petite female went into heat, the males would have nothing to do with her.

Debra called the kitten, 'psycho' because her tail constantly twitched, she growled while eating, and was socially awkward around other cats. I diagnosed the kitten as autistic.

I decided to step in to help this awkward kitten. When I called the Goldendale Vet Clinic to schedule surgery to get her spayed, I was required to provide a name. I didn't want her labeled psycho. I had no time to consider, so blurted, 'Tina Turner.' She had no home, but at least she had a name.

A man I know rents a room in a house on the east side of town. Adrian, in his mid-forties, is autistic. He's exceptionally bright but his brain simply doesn't process human facial cues. Adrian, like Tina, is socially isolated.

Last summer Adrian took in an abandoned cat that showed up on his doorstep. She was seeking a new home. He named her Shelly. Sadly, a couple of months ago she was hit by a car and died in his arms.

I called Adrian to ask if he'd adopt Tina. At first, he was hesitant. When I explained she's autistic, and described her characteristics, and how much she wanted a home, he agreed to take her.

Tiny Tina recuperated from surgery at my house for a few days. When I took her to Adrian's, he was all smiles, obviously happy to have a new companion to care for.

at first, Tina hid behind boxes in his room. After a mere five hours, she calmly relaxed on his bed. For a feral cat, that's a very fast adjustment. By the next day, she curled up in his lap.

The Dali Lama also said generosity creates happiness. Rescuing a cat is one of a million ways to be happy. Another way is to be generous to yourself. Take a day off and unwind. Slow down. Recharge your batteries. Your immune system will work better. Your mood will improve. Pretend you're a cat. You'll be glad you did.

I rest my case.