The cat in the window

Well then what did you end up with by the end of this week?  My self appointed assignment was quite simply, to pay attention this week.  “To what?” you ask?  Nothing in particular and everything in general.  I am happy to report that the guaranteed insistence of each moment to continue with or without us never changes while inconstancy of temperament remains a predominant characteristic of human nature.  How odd, given that humanity touts itself as a higher life form.  The ant, the scrub jay, the coyotes roaming the foothills and the creatures in the sea are more predictably reliable in their behavior than I am.

Where have your travels taken you since you were last at this point in your week’s calendar?  Oh, I know what you are thinking.  It is difficult to remember what you wore to work yesterday let alone what happened over the course of seven days.  Can you remember if you came back home each day satisfied with the outcome of what you put your hand to?  If so, then congratulations are deserved; if not then it is time to muster a portion of compassion for yourself.

Persistent effort may bring gains that are pleasing.  I wonder if the cat in the window thinks of this as he gazes upon the birds that pass so close.  Does he remember the tiny feathered creature he brought to our front door?  His effort to grace our homestead with a contribution towards the larder resulted in our sentencing him to a future spent predominantly indoors.

To be watchful, constant, patient and free of judgment brings a moment into blazing focus don’t you think?  Not in a stance of self-absorption or narcissistic fascination but simply watching, like the cat in the window.  And in the watching, in the stillness, in the capture and quick release of each and every second there is peace, unsullied by the rise and fall of the tide or the storm that passes by.

Where my journey goes I will not know, beginning as it did, before I remember, and ending before I expect.  I can accept that my best plans are an untidy pencil draft.  The true blueprint depicting my remarkable existence is stashed away within the universe around me and better off left there with the cat in the window.



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