From James Allison
- Perfex's legacy (his cat)
Though I cannot put my finger on it, nor can I quote it verbatim, I am reminded of the Whitman poem where he said (paraphrased):
I could live with the animals.
They are so self contained.
They do not lie awake at night
Weeping and worrying.
There is not a one of them
That bows to one of their own kind
Who lived years ago.
I know exactly where I stand with my cats. They are not nice to my face and critical of me to my back. This is not to say that they don't get pissed at me at times... But when they do, they let me know in no uncertain terms that they are pissed. And all I have to do is rectify whatever it was/is that is pissing them off, and everything is once again alright with no grudge or secret disdain.
And they know to come to me when they are in some kind of trouble or have some kind of problem. Yet they also have a sense of those things over which I have no power. I have had a number of them just disappear, never to be seen again. But this is rare and only happens when the circumstances are beyond intervention.
There is an axiom that the only REAL success in life is spending one's time the way one WANTS to spend one's time. And for those who have this compulsion to worry about one's relationship to goodness, it is an evidence of their doubt.
A person whose attitude is one of care-free abandon, who doesn't worry about what they should do, but rather just does what seems to be efficacious at the time for THAT occasion, and then whether it turns out well or otherwise has no recriminations or regrets... That person is healthy in a spiritual way.
Those who are constantly mindful of their and others relationships to whatever it is that they are in constant supplication or apprehension are the spiritual equivalent of a hypochondriac. The problem is that in spiritual hypochondria, there is no one who can help, for those who are spiritual hypochondriacs believe themselves to be in favor and anyone who would tell them to just drop all the bullshit concerns, MUST be some kind of infidel.
Those who most want you to listen to and accept their religion are those who least want to listen to and accept another's religion. And those who most want others to be tolerant of them are the least tolerant of others.
This never occurs among my cats.
There isn't a doubt in the world that what they do isn't the right thing to do at the moment. I try to learn that lesson from them and act out of immediate comprehension of the right thing at the right time.
It isn't, of course, always the right thing that gets done, but at least it is not done with any deviousness, nor with the idea of taking advantage.
And I think that THAT is what makes plotting a good tryst so much fun. The intrigue of having things affect multiple levels and having the plan interlock so that what happens is the result of having understood, planned, and then have the whole thing fit together and come out just like it was hoped, brings satisfaction.
Alas, life and the day to day, ever changing, hour to hour, custom made, minute to minute existence is so manifold and complex, that it isn't possible to completely prepare for every eventuality.
It is the difference between training and rehearsing. The difference between Boxing and Dancing.
The Dancers rehearse and then the performance is done with every move pre known.
But Boxers train, and are then thus prepared to take improvisational action depending on the circumstances, even when the opponents are trying to confound and out-do the other.
My father used to say that after you've seen the three MuhammedAli/JoeFrazier fights, that there just wasn't much boxing left that wasn't inferior and less than what was possible.
Life is more a boxing match than a ballet performance.
How well we handle it (life) is an indication of how good a man (or woman) we are.
And Perfex handled even her demise with style and grace. She will be buried in the same manner.
She deserves nothing less.
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