The Cheshire Cat is nearly the epitome of what mental health coaching is all about.
Regardless of which adaptation of
Alice's adventures you're familiar with, you
only meet him after you're getting comfortable in Wonderland, and then he's not
at all what you've just learned to expect. His normalcy is unsettling. Okay, so
is the manic grin. But that's just for show. Anyway, you aren't sure what to
make of him because, by all appearances, he's just another Wonderland
inhabitant. But there's something very off about him, compared to the rest.
I could go deep and say the Cheshire Cat is the Jungian archetype of mystery and tricks, but that analysis only loosely fits. (He's clever, but not deceptive, malicious, selfish, or "getting away with" anything.)
He also doesn't stick around long. Long enough to listen, propose a sensible solution, and make sure
is all right. There really isn't that much mysterious about him. He's only
there to be sure Alice
is still on the track she wants to be on. He allows her to decide what's next. It's
her dream, after all, not his. Alice
Cheshire Cat is a great coach or counselor, plain and simple.
* * * * *
It's Adopt-A-Cat Month, folks. And cats can be great listeners, but they can also decide to go to sleep just when you get to the exciting part, or choose that moment to walk off to the food bowl, or clean their nether regions. We aren't in Wonderland, after all. But they are great stress relievers, when the general madness starts to creep in.
And when felines float off to dream about chasing white rabbits, I'm still here for ya!
(Now the little avatar makes sense, doesn't it?)