Stanley the cat jumped into the kitchen cupboard the other day and stayed awhile. It must’ve been a nice vantage point for him as he spends most of his time at ankle height, or lazing on the back of the sofa.
I like that idea. Seeing things from a different viewpoint. Even backwards. By that I mean looking at the past through your present eyes. Things that once were desperately important are barely remembered. Other remembrances are tiny jewels, shining brilliantly through the years.
Frankly, I don’t think Stanley has a memory. Every day is new for him, every minute fresh. He darts to his food bowl and begs in front of a heaping bowl. Five minutes later, he repeats his act. He is endlessly fascinated by the laser pointer. He spends ten minutes preparing his bed, settles into it, and immediately jumps off and sleeps where he drops.
A balance. Looking back and learning, but not so much that you can’t see where you’re going.