Everything
Some days, when awakened by my Ranch Manager Mateo (the tiger tom cat) who has decided that I have slept way too long (5 minutes past the beginnings of the sun to yawn over the horizon), I open my eyes to marvel at the beauty of the lines of fur around his infinite eyes. I feel my bones healing from the vibrations of his purr and then the satin of the sheets sliding across my skin as I move to accommodate His Majesty, feeling the exquisite softness of his fur. It is at these times I am absolutely convinced that there is a purpose to life, that there is a Creator and that having a body is so completely worth it. For the moment. As the day crashes in (truck breaks, dryer dies, pail full of gallons of horse poop cracks open, and so on) there is a tendency want to excavate a rabbit hole and dive in. Retreat from this life. From the culmination of these kinds of moments. That is, until the wind brushes my skin, a horse whisker blesses my neck, and one of my ever present Angels whispe...