Hibernate with Hazel

Hazel hunkers down

It’s time to learn from Hazel the cat, who makes it her priorities to stay warm and rested. Here are some life lessons I’ve gleaned during our first six months together. They might benefit you in your creative pursuits.

Keep your claws sharpened

Unafraid to shred the upholstery and rugs, Hazel makes claw maintenance a priority. I find crescent-shaped claw leftovers on the floor from time to time, testament to her diligence. Shortly after she moved in with me, I built her a spiffy cat tower, with abundant scratching surfaces. After I combined encouragement (leaving treats in the cat tower) with an attitude of laissez-faire whatevs (in Hazel’s presence, carefully ignoring the corner of the room where the cat tower sits), Hazel began to approach, and later still, use, the five scratching opportunities on offer there. But because she values variety, the arms of my couch boast numerous hanging chads – evidence of her continued loyalty to her first scratchable love. Who knows what we’ll need sharp claws for, but better to be prepared, right?

Stay limber

I so admire Hazel’s fluid movements. She can spring up onto high surfaces whenever she wants. She can whiz past me when she’s got a case of the zoomies (see below). She can fling a toy across great distances, like a pro baseball pitcher. Those sharp claws give her the control she needs to position her toy at the end of her forepaw, before hurling it overhead. She can also curl up and stretch out languidly in the most relaxed way, comfortable with her sprawl. When I’m doing my floor routine in the morning, she’ll sometimes watch from across the room, in what a friend calls “cat loaf” position. I imagine she has no idea why her human has to work at staying somewhat limber. It just comes naturally to her.

Assert your needs

Hazel gets the together time with me that she prefers. When I imagined living with a cat, before Hazel came home with me, my favorite pipe dream was the cat half-asleep on my lap, purring, while I read a book and stroked the cat’s head. I love when that happens now, in real life. I also love how matter of fact she is about needing – and not needing – human attention. Some of my human relationships might have gone differently had I learned this behavior from Hazel decades ago.

Eat when hungry

Hazel grazes. I read that it’s important to be consistent with feeding times – once in the morning and once at night. So I am. Initially, Hazel scampered to her bowl as soon as I refilled it, and scarfed its contents in a rush. That changed, though, presumably when she saw that she had no competition, and that the refills could be counted on to continue. Now that she can rely on being fed, she moseys over now and then, chews calmly, a few bites at a time, and moves along.

Nap whenever

Hazel’s a pro. I’m a mere wannabe amateur by comparison. But she sets us all a good example. Pushing herself past comfort because of an external goal? Not on her menu. She protects and restores her energy resources. That way, when she needs a surge, it’s there, ready to serve her. For variety, she has cultivated several napping locations. One morning, she’ll be under a chair, positioned to receive the sun’s rays. That afternoon, she might be on the couch, or on the blanket at the foot of my bed, or on a different blanket on another surface. So far, she’s refused to lounge on the soft, cushy cat bed near the heat vent. That would be too obvious, maybe.

Indulge in the zoomies

The closest equivalent for me in my creative life is when I am moved to immerse in a project. Time disappears. When Hazel gets the zoomies, she’s filled with the spirit and bounds after a toy, or an imaginary prey. (She’s gone after something invisible to me yet adjacent to her tail more than once, so far without capturing it.) She thunders down the hallway in the middle of the night. Her energized focus manifests as frenzied physical activity, while mine shows up more as internal sparks and connections. But the intensity is comparable.

Thunder or tiptoe as appropriate

This one I admire a lot. When Hazel wants to make an impact, she can muster the power to make a racket. When she prefers to disappear, she’s gotten pretty good at extra-quiet ambulation. Don’t we all benefit from harnessing a range of expression? Sometimes, she’s less sneaky than she thinks she is, but hey, life is for learning.

You can’t see me

Knead, knead, knead

My friend calls this typical cat behavior “making biscuits” and I find it adorable. Hazel has a favorite blanket to work on – and it’s work! She’s dead serious whenever she addresses the task. I have no idea what the creative equivalent for us humans would be – maybe bookkeeping? – but I find her commitment inspirational in a general sort of way.

Creative support where we find it

Does Hazel’s approach inspire you to give a little bit more to your creative work? I hope for all of us that we find the juice we need to keep at the practices and behaviors that give us respite from the doomscrolling and help us make meaning out of the everyday.

With warm regards for the holidays,

~ Anne

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