Use discomfort as an opportunity for awakening, rather than trying to make it disappear. (Pema Chodron)
My sister’s cat, of whom I’ve written before in Cat’s Britches, is a bonified curmudgeon. I say this with absolutely no malice, since I am quite fond of Toby. But there ain’t no doubt about it. Upon entering her home, you are greeted with a friendly snarl, and you wanna be real careful to stay outa reach of his prodigious claws. Keeping one wary eye on him at all times is not a bad idea. Since I probably reek of other animals to his sensitive cat nose, I am particularly on his “piece-of-crap list.”
Toby’s been around the block a time or two, and he’s gettin’ on toward 20 years, so we figure he’s earned the right to his curmudgeonly attitude. In fact, it’s not just Toby; I notice a lot of my older friends are a tad curmudgeonly themselves.
I looked the word curmudgeon up, and all the synonyms — bear, bellyacher, complainer, crab, crank, fusser, griper, grouch, growler, grumbler, grump, murmurer, mutterer, sourpuss, whiner — made me smile. I like curmudgeons! They always make me laugh since I always have trouble believing they’re really serious. Or maybe it’s because they’re saying things I think, but don’t wanna say — now there’s a thought!
And maybe in reality, curmudgeons are actually just disillusioned or disappointed idealists. So “curmudgeon on,” dear Toby! We know you’re really just a visionary and idealist at heart.