If you’re familiar with meerkats, you know that they are adorable-looking creatures, with patches around their eyes, known for standing up on their hind legs a lot of the time and always focused on what’s above them. (Google them – they’re cute.) Like skinny little sentries, they stand guard for their friends and themselves, always with their eyes up, up, up. Because up, up, up is where their predators are. So, to avoid being swooped up and carried away, the meerkat keeps a watchful eye to the sky.

My life as a meerkat extends only so far as the metaphorical eyes-up stance. No, I’m not waiting to be flown away to a terrible fate – I’m just always looking upward, waiting for that other shoe to fall on my head. You know, the one that’s hanging over me, ready to come crashing down, bringing the latest mishap, calamity, or havoc.

Yes, I’ll cop to being neurotic by birth (honestly, have you met a true New Yorker who isn’t?); anxious by pastime (a writer without some kind of weakness isn’t really a writer); and threatened by, well, everything going on in today’s world (anyone who doesn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable is hiding their head in the sand – instead of looking up). And so, my meerkat persona.

Wherein I’m always aware of that other shoe that’s just hanging there. Is it the sharp point of a stiletto heel about to come down on me with yet another glitch? Or how about the thick sole of a hiking boot about to crush my hopes for a day unencumbered? Or maybe it’s a seemingly innocent little flip-flop about to flip flop all over my plans for, oh, I don’t know, not worrying for the next 20 minutes.

Certainly looking up at all times (even metaphorically) precludes looking around at all the good things. I get that, and I do try not to focus on my meerkat sensibilities too much. Not every day brings tough stuff – life is a mix. It truly is an art to live in the moment, in the sunlight, and in the belief that, while bad things may happen, wonderful things do too. And why waste time dwelling on the small upsets – why lose a beautiful afternoon to the proposition of what-if (because you’ve just what-iffed yourself out of several hours you can’t get back).

I understand it all. And I do my best. But, honestly, I don’t think I’d feel comfortable losing my inner meerkat completely.

You can take the fear out of the girl, but … well, wait a second. No you can’t.

Eyes up.

©2024 Claudia Grossman