Day Sixty-Three · Waiting for a Cat to Come Home

The orange cat downstairs is missing.
Usually at this time, it’s sunbathing by the flower bed, its tail curled into a question mark. Today, the flower bed is empty, only the wind flipping through the leaves.
I took a walk around the neighborhood. No sign of it in the bushes, under the cars, or on the steps where it usually naps.
As I kept looking, I suddenly smiled—what am I so anxious about?
It’s just gone for a walk. Maybe visiting the neighbor’s yard, maybe napping on a tree branch, or watching the sunset from a windowsill. It knows the way, will come back when hungry, when tired, or when it wants to sunbathe.
Some things just can’t be rushed.
When the market dips, we always want it to turn red immediately. Staring at the candlestick chart, enduring second by second, wishing we could just pull a bullish line ourselves. But the more anxious we are, the less it moves. The more we watch, the further it seems to go down.
Eventually, I understood—it’s just gone for a walk.
The logic hasn’t changed, the position hasn’t changed, everything that should be there is still there. It just needs a little time to turn around on its own. Just like that cat, if you call it all over the neighborhood, it won’t come out. But if you sit at home, leave a crack in the door, it will slip in on its own.

I sat on the steps downstairs, stopped looking. The wind was gentle, then I heard soft footsteps. The orange cat peeked out from behind the bushes, tail held high, strolling slowly over and lying down at my feet.
See, it’s back.
The position is still there, waiting for it to come home. #Gate金手指