A big black cat named Napoleon moved in next door and Gaiter, my ever so zen pup, has been troubled by it. Got me thinking about why some things can just set us off…

And All the While

Napoleon arrived in our neighborhood today, he stood outside the sliding door to our deck — crying out as though in need of help— as though in pain. I went to investigate. Gaiter stood behind me vigilant. Who IS this outsider? Who is this provocateur? Why does he make me feel this way? I want to bark, shout to the heavens —this is all wrong, THIS is all wrong.

And all the while unconvinced of my rightness. Why do I feel injured? Is it instinct? Intuition? Why do I feel some things have happened that I do not understand?* How do we know the rightness or wrongness of our feelings? Are we in control?

My very being is miffed looking at him. I wait for the same gesture, the one that drives me crazy, his way of moving, of expressing himself, his manipulated truths. How can a warp and weft cut so deep, defy the bodhisattva?

And all the while I see the knowing, behind his insouciant big-eyed innocence, whispering — this will make me look good, this will make me famous.


*With a nod to the OnBeing interview with Marie Howe that got me fired up to write it out…