The Sweet Spot
Dogs are good at lots of things. Welcoming you is probably their best talent. They will protect your house and take a walk with you and comfort you when you are sad. They also can bring you sticks and run around in circles.
Cats, like Stewart here, excel at finding the sweet spot. That one place that is, at that moment, THE place. With thousands of square feet in our house, there were two square feet that were perfect in that late afternoon. Stewart found them.
We all have our sweet spots. Sometimes it’s a physical place, like Stewart’s cozy patch of sun. The right sofa with the right book (and also maybe a cat) can become the sweet spot on a Sunday morning.
But it doesn’t have to be a place. The sweet spot can be an object, an attitude. Whatever brings that warm feeling that’s not excitement, nor joy, nor even delight. It’s contentment.
What brings me contentment has evolved over my life.
When I was a teenager, the sweet spot was the perfect pair of jeans.
In my twenties, I felt that bliss with independence… my first car, my first apartment, my first…um, “sleepover”.
Through my career-building thirties, it was the drive home on a Friday night, knowing that all my work was done.
I discovered in my forties (later than most women) the sweet spot in weaving a story for a captivated child.
Then at fifty there was satisfaction in the kitchen, preparing a holiday meal while listening to my family laughing in the other room.
Now I’m in my sixties. And the sweet spot? The perfect pair of jeans.
Note: This piece was created for the website Vision and Verb (http://www.visionandverb.com), a network of women from around the world who contribute images and ideas through this amazing site. I was honored to be asked to contribute a guest post. You may want to wander over there – it’s fabulous.