The Independent Life of Woody The Cat

Hello Everyone,

Sometimes I'm casting about for a topic, and then I realize I'm staring one right in the face. Our pets.

Some of the most amazing and illuminating moments of our lives are brought about by virtue of our pets. You see, often times where we cannot open our hearts to other humanoids, we can open our hearts to animals.

We won't debate here whether or not pets have "souls". I'll just state for the record that they definitely do. Although probably not in the sense that we think about it; but the Native Americans knew and still do, that the animal kingdom is part of God and that they serve us, well - if we are but listening and paying attention.

Which brings me to Woody the Cat, my pet. Woody has been with me since he was weened. His birthday is July 4, 2005. At the time Woody came to live with me, I was just moving into my newly built home in Descanso, Ca. The property was bordered on the rear by the Cleveland National Forrest and overlooked the Cuyamaca Rancho State Park. In short, he came to live in a place where few cats live beyond their first year. Amongst the "dangers" are mountain lions, coyotes, rattle snakes, bobcats and owls to name a few.

However, at every stage of his growing up, he had to be a cat. He would whine to go outside, to stay outside and be FREE!

Of course this set up a giant war within my human mind. What if? How can I? I have to protect him!

Alas, all my mental explantions to Woody the Cat about how I wanted him to be safe made nary a dent on his natural self - a cat. Clearly, it was I that would have to grow in consciousness in order to be able to give him the life he deserved. I had to learn to "let go" and know that he was in Well Being, with his own internal guidance, and above all - that his life was his own, not mine.

Woody and I have had many adventures. Well, it's more accurate to say that I've had many adventures because of his being Woody the Cat.

There was, of course, not one, but three encounters with rattle snakes. He likes to play with them. The time he got himself treed in my neighbors encampment with 13 Jack Russell terriers. And most recently, here in Ohio where he has become quite the ambassador of Good Will, greeting all the neighbors in their comings and goings. One night he got himself locked up in someone's garage.

At every Woody adventure, even when he's "overdue" to be home, his presence in my life serves to remind me to Trust. All is well. And his life is remarkably, his own.

The truth is, because I love him so much, I want him to have his own life. To do that, I have to grow in unconditional Love.

God bless our pets, who teach us such a concept.

Thanks for reading!

Kath

One Man's Desire for More and Better

Good Day Everyone!

Recently I've been watching Showtime's series, the Tudors. On the Special Features disc I was treated to see one episode of This American Life, another Showtime Series. This episode was about Michael Phillips. The best article I can find to tell you about the show and about Michael Phillips is in the St. Petersburg Times. Eric Deggans, staff writer, wrote an amazing account of Michael and his story.

I heartily encourage you to read the story and then watch the show. It is the first episode of the second season of This American Life. You can probably get it from your local library on DVD.
Talk about Quality programming, this is it.

Mike is an ordinary guy, except that he's got a particular challenge called SMA. The only part, save his head, that moves is his thumb. He's still an ordinary guy with hopes, dreams and desires. He is striving, like each of us, to become more than he has been.

The episode talks about his having lived with his Mother all his life, and now he wants some independence. He wants - his Life.

Wow, we think as we watch, how amazing is this? Yet, he, like each of us, is a Godchip in physical form. He is alive and reflective, a being of Light in a physical, albeit, broken body. Many, I suppose, would think, "why bother". Yet, he does. He strives to grow and become more Real, more himSelf. Michael is our teacher.

A friend of mine is reading The Story of My Life by Helen Keller. In sharing with my friend Michael's story, she in turn recounted to me that same Joie de Vive - zest for life - in Helen's words about her own life. Everyday was a wonderful day to Helen. Every letter started with some version of how happy she was to be alive and how privileged it was to feel the sun on her face, or the rain, or the snow...she was just happy for Life, Itself.

A new book has come to my attention, Happy For No Reason, by Marci Shimoff. On my walk this morning I was contemplating these three events coming into my awareness over the past 24 hours. Michael Phillips, Helen Keller, and Marci Simoff - all reminding me that my Life Is Good, as well, and to Be Happy for no particular reason except that I just get to be here in the physical and that is the Reason for Joy.

How grateful I am for the lives of others who influence me back into Reality.

Thanks for Reading!

Kath

Ancient Wisdom for Now

Good Evening Everyone!

Santa Ana winds are blowing again up here in the Cuyamaca Mountains of San Diego. They are tiresome. Yet, they blow and the wind has its way. Sometimes gentle, sometimes sudden and gusty, startling. Woody the cat finds shelter under the bed.

I decided it was time for basics in my blog; that I hadn't yet touched on the topic of mystery.

Mystery is the fabric of spirituality; it is the ground cloth. It begins blank at the start of one's journey and as wisdom is gained, a thread gets woven into the fabric as an understanding. So we each make our own tapestry over the course of a lifetime. I take a thread here, a thread there and weave a picture that is known to me as Truth. Each of us does this, consciously or not. These are not beliefs of the human mind, rather are simply known as Truth without proof because they are threads of the Mind of God.

When the wind is blowing like this, dry and long, hard and without mercy, the mystery is opening as the skin on the back of your neck prickles and raises your hackles. It stirs up the soul restless to be heard, felt and known. The wind helps sweep away the mental constructs of human mind that constrict the soul which speaks only God Mind.

Often in these types of things I like to consult the I Ching. For a few years I studied the I Ching nearly daily, endeavoring to decipher the poetry, the - haiku? Sorry. Could not think of another word.

After several years I came to one thing that I felt the ancients had got spot on: that we live in two minds: the human mind and the Mind of God.

We call these many things here in the West.

We talk of psychology and the psyche, the rational mind, or the intellect. All these are human mind that we have learned since landing here on the planet.

Then, there is the Mind of God, or the Mind of Tao. The silence. It strives not, but Is. The Ground Cloth.

In all teachings there is reference to prayer of some sort. Western prayer is about asking, beseeching and even begging. It is always about talking in some way to God. The best side of Western prayer is giving thanks, giving praise, or blessing....but always, always talking, sending out yet another message.

But in Easter prayer there is silence. There is breath. There is being. There is the mystery of contact with It. There is receiving and allowing.

So when the wind is blowing like this, I feel the mystery calling me to quiet my human mind(s). And be still. Listen to the Sounds of Silence. Allow the mystery to enter me.

It's like it's knocking at my soul reminding me to reach upward, inward and receive the message, the wordless fullness.

There is so much noise.

It is a lifetime of practice to remove yourself from the daily fray to enter the mystery and fill up; to go back to the world and your many tasks now full, refreshed and inspired.

So today I turned to the I Ching and the chapter on Mystery. And here I share it with you:

14. Mystery

Looked at but cannot be seen - it is beneath form;
Listened to but cannot be heard - it is beneath sound;
Held but cannot be touched - it is beneath feeling;
These depthless things evade definition,
And blend into a single mystery.

In its rising there is no light,
In its falling there is no darkness,
A continuous thread beyond description,
Lining what can not occur;
Its form formless,
Its image nothing,
Its name silence;
Follow it, it has no back,
Meet it, it has no face.

Attend the present to deal with the past;
Thus you grasp the continuity of the Way,
Which is its essence

14. Mystery

Looked at but cannot be seen - it is beneath form;
Listened to but cannot be heard - it is beneath sound;
Held but cannot be touched - it is beneath feeling;
These depthless things evade definition,
And blend into a single mystery.

In its rising there is no light,
In its falling there is no darkness,
A continuous thread beyond description,
Lining what can not occur;
Its form formless,
Its image nothing,
Its name silence;
Follow it, it has no back,
Meet it, it has no face.

Attend the present to deal with the past;
Thus you grasp the continuity of the Way,
Which is its essence

(http://www.chinapage.com/gnl.html)

Even a two way radio has "send" and "receive"buttons. Both cannot function at the same time.
We "send" messages all day, all night long.

Time to receive the Mystery.

Thanks for reading!


Kath