When does an unselfish act become foolish? I asked myself this question when Simba, my tortoiseshell Maine Coon, meowed up at me to be let out, please! Outside, under autumn-glum skies, it was hard to tell whether drizzle fell or I needed to wash my windows. In any case, I had just gotten Simba and his brother, red-haired Garfield, inside, by rattling plates together. They got some cat sweets and I praised them for coming in. No way will I open another can, not today, maybe tomorrow.
I can imagine they are dying to go outside. A mole is digging up the dark, fertile earth of the grass field behind our house. The trees in the backyard are chattering with little birds. Being outside, breathing fresh air and playing are the things highest on a cat’s list. Not to mention the regular cat congress, all along the field. Some days there are up to 12 cats sitting there, glaring or winking at each other.
Which brings me back to my first question: When does an unselfish act become foolish? This is a cat’s paradise, here in the Forest Shire of Almere. Suppose I bury my dreams of love and romance, accept reality of love and routine and stay for the sake of the animals and stability. There is something to say for stability. This Haven is exactly what I asked for. Now all I ask for is love and happiness, which I am not always feeling. Let me stick to the unselfish act of providing love where love is needed. It requires me to take a real long hard look at my wishes and minimize the discontent and criticisms of my ego. It requires me to stay put and surrender. So I surrender to God. And that is never foolish. [1 October 2009]
I can imagine they are dying to go outside. A mole is digging up the dark, fertile earth of the grass field behind our house. The trees in the backyard are chattering with little birds. Being outside, breathing fresh air and playing are the things highest on a cat’s list. Not to mention the regular cat congress, all along the field. Some days there are up to 12 cats sitting there, glaring or winking at each other.
Which brings me back to my first question: When does an unselfish act become foolish? This is a cat’s paradise, here in the Forest Shire of Almere. Suppose I bury my dreams of love and romance, accept reality of love and routine and stay for the sake of the animals and stability. There is something to say for stability. This Haven is exactly what I asked for. Now all I ask for is love and happiness, which I am not always feeling. Let me stick to the unselfish act of providing love where love is needed. It requires me to take a real long hard look at my wishes and minimize the discontent and criticisms of my ego. It requires me to stay put and surrender. So I surrender to God. And that is never foolish. [1 October 2009]
