I was sitting, enjoying the silence of the early morning. I was alone in the kitchen, holding a warm cup of raspberry tea, snuggled in a blanket on the chair that looks out at our backyard. I was looking at the fresh snow on the trees, lost in gratitude for the quiet moment with myself.
Suddenly, papers went flying off from the kitchen table and onto the floor. I turned my head quickly to see what was happening, only to find one of the cats batting at my son’s homework sitting on the table. She was startled when the papers went flying, but she went right back to batting at the homework. I shook my head and said, “You are going to be sorry,” as I watched the book about the fall onto her. There were versions of me who would have tried to prevent her from having the book fall on her and scare her, but this version of me knows that sometimes we need to experience the consequences of our own actions to understand why we shouldn’t do something. So I sat holding my cup of tea, watching what was about to happen. She batted at the papers one more time, tipping them onto herself and sending papers and pencils flying. And when they fell on her, she took off, running to the other side of the house in a state of complete fear, scratching at the floor because she was running so fast.
I went back to looking outside at the snow and began to smile. I wondered if that was what it was like for the universe to watch us in the human experience. The universe can clearly see what will happen, and the papers falling are a warning to stop messing with the person, energy, or experience we are messing with. I imagine that the universe tells us that we are about to be sorry and knows that we likely won’t listen. I bet the universe understands that sometimes the only way for us to learn to listen to warning signs is to have experiences where we don’t listen and deal with the consequences. And then, I am guessing that the universe sits watching us as we completely ignore the resistance, keep messing with that person, energy, or experience, and then run screaming in the opposite direction when it blows up in our faces.