Incapussitated – Why We Gladly Surrender to Our Cats
It starts the same way every time: I sit down for just a second—maybe with a cup of tea, maybe just to check my phone—and within moments, I feel the soft pressure of paws stepping into my lap.
There’s a quiet pause. A little circling.
And then… the flop.
Suddenly, my entire body becomes government property.
I am no longer a person with agency.
I’ve been incapussitated.
The definition?
Unable to move due to a cat on the lap.
Condition may last minutes… or hours.
Side effects include numb legs, a full bladder, and overwhelming feelings of peace.
And here’s the thing: I don’t even mind.
Because there’s something sacred about it.
The way they choose you.
The way they settle into your lap like it’s the safest place on Earth.
The way their body slowly melts into yours as they drift off, completely trusting that you won’t move a muscle.
And you don’t.
Because we all know the unspoken rule:
If the cat is sleeping on you, you stay put.
Forever if necessary.
I’ve missed phone calls, skipped snacks, and delayed bathroom trips all in the name of lap loyalty.
And I know I’m not alone.
There’s an entire tribe of us—cat people—who gladly put our lives on hold just to preserve that perfect moment of stillness.
Why?
Because it’s not just about comfort. It’s about connection.
There’s something deeply affirming about being the chosen lap.
About being still enough, soft enough, warm enough to be trusted with sleep.
And cats don’t fake it.
They don’t pretend to like you out of politeness.
If they curl up on you, it’s because they want to.
Because in that moment, you’re their safe place.
It’s funny, how we let them completely dictate our posture, our schedule, and even our bladder control… and yet feel grateful for it.
But we are.
Because in that stillness, we find something we didn’t even know we were craving:
A pause.
A breath.
A quiet kind of closeness that doesn’t need words to be felt.
There’s a calm that comes with being “stuck” like that.
Your heart slows down.
Your mind stops spinning.
The to-do list fades into the background.
And suddenly, all that matters is the warmth of their fur, the soft rhythm of their breathing, and the weight of trust resting in your lap.
It’s not just stillness—it’s presence.
And in a world that constantly tells us to move faster, do more, and be everywhere at once… being incapussitated feels like the ultimate act of rebellion.
So yes, I could move.
I could stretch, or shift, or reclaim my personal space.
But I won’t.
Because I know how rare this moment is.
How precious it is to be seen, chosen, and trusted by a creature who owes you nothing—but gives you everything in the quietest way.
This isn’t inconvenience. It’s devotion.
And I’ll gladly stay frozen in place for as long as she needs me.
Next time someone asks why you’re late, just smile and say,
“Sorry—I was incapussitated.”
And trust me, if they know cats, they’ll understand completely.
If you’ve ever postponed your entire day because a cat fell asleep on you, share this with someone who understands.
Fellow “incapussitated” souls will know exactly what you mean.