Mischief
I have not had any personal encounters with the bobcat, but I was drawn to this animal and really wanted to capture him on paper.
When I draw upon information of the spirit of the animal I have read, it only makes sense I am captivated by it. The bobcat is solitary and like many cats becomes quickly invisible in its surroundings. Throughout my life I was content to be invisible, watching and learning but never joining in. I have always been content in my own company perhaps because of my distrust of people.
I see in this cub a playfulness and yes, some mischief in his bright eyes. This is surely one who could spend time entertaining himself. If I was fortunate enough to stand by and watch, I have no doubt I’d be smiling and laughing in a short time. Most children have this ability to play and laugh, making toys out of what comes to hand outside. An ideal childhood is one that is allowed to explore and play and have fun without pressure. This beautiful innocent part of my life was cut short at the age of two, when I was forced to grow up quickly, leaving behind the innocence of a happy child.
I have memories of being locked in a room for undetermined amounts of time when I was three to six years of age. The room had only a bed for furniture. The walls and the covering on the bed were the same drab beige and there was no window to let me see the passing of the days. There was a light in the room although I could not see it’s source and it was kept at the same level all day and all night. The door was a pocket style that seemed to open magically; there was no handle.
I cannot tell you where this room was or why I was kept a prisoner inside it, but I learned to be still and stay calm, never knowing when they would come for me. I could feel them when they were on their way, not because I could hear them, but I could feel their energy as they approached. This is a skill learned in isolation; the mind becomes still much like in meditation, though in this environment not saturated in joy.
Generally it was not a good thing when they came to get me, it was usually a time when the abuse and torture would start over again. There was no escaping, no understanding of why it was happening, and no one to give comfort when the pain became overwhelming. More than once I cried out for my parents, but they could not come for me. How does one find hope in this situation? I believe it was the years of being loved, few as they were, that kept me going…and continue to do so even now. One beautiful memory can last a lifetime.
The bobcat seems to me as though it carries secrets to be told when one has earned the right to hear them. Remembering this room was one of those secrets that hid in the recesses of my mind for many, many years. Still, when I think about that room, I am reminded of a past best left in the shadows. If I had the choice to remember only the happy times from my childhood, I would be left with images of my birth parents, my loving surrogate parents, my horse, and the love surrounding me during that very short period. All of this was taken from me in a very brutal and unforgiving way.
Small wonder I chose to be in my own company for much of my life, a place where I feel the safety of the walls built around me. Just as the bobcat is capable of becoming invisible in its surroundings, so too I developed this skill, content in my solitude.
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