Ignore what is not essential.
There are thousands of jingling mouse toys to choose from. Only seek out the one that makes you consistently happy.
No need to replace what isn’t broken.
Shred the couch cushions until they are hanging onto their last threads before letting someone consider replacing it.
Less stuff, more time.
More time to chew weird things. More time to nap in impossible places. More time to rub your head on every possible hallway. And more opportunities to stare longingly out the window.
Don’t carry anything with you. It’ll only weigh you down.
Pay attention to where money leaks.
Ignore the expensive self-cleaning litter box. Use your old smelly one. Take no notice of the feather toy they will buy you on your birthday. Play with the packaging instead.
The laser dot the human will keep branding in your face is tempting, but it’s also a way to waste your precious time. Turn around, flash her the butt, and walk away.
Rest is essential.
Better if you do it where you’re not supposed to. Bonus points if you do it as opposed to when the rest of society is asleep.
Keep a routine.
Carry as much litter sand as you can out of the box, every time. Meow each time the human opens the fridge. Start the zoomies whenever they sit down to watch a movie. Book it every time the doorbell rings — even if it’s the delivery man who comes every day and at the same time.
Learn to take on one task at a time.
Trying to teach yourself to climb the screen door while hunting the fly who infiltrated the house may be overkill. Tackle one at a time for the best efficiency.
Reduce your to-dos.
Eat. Sleep. Poop. Walk on the human’s face when she sleeps. Sprint through the home at dawn. Repeat.
Release what does not serve you.
AKA shed immensely in the spring. And in the fall. Just do it everywhere, and often. Aim for black clothing.
Make white space matter.
Fixate on nothing in particular. Embrace boredom.
Appreciate what you have.
Remind them daily by purring on their lap.