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Sometimes OCD Crow Lies on the Carpet at One a.m.

After all, the cats do. We should, perhaps, undertake more often to just collapse on the rug and be still. The cats teach me to feel less guilt about simply yielding to a momentary impulse to be calm, serene, detached from doing. Can I just not? Can I? Since grief entered my life, the relinquishing happens more readily, with less resistance. There is ceiling and silence and time and walls around me. I don’t even miss myself in these moments. The longing hums on beyond me. The cats join in.