Showing posts with label Cat Behavior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cat Behavior. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Take a minute to meditate
In you, O LORD, I take refuge
For you are my hope, O Lord;
my trust,
On you I depend from birth;
from my mother’s womb you are my strength.
Ps 71: 1, 5ab-6ab
It is a bleak and dreary morning. The second day drenched with rain and a month declared the wettest in the most recent past. A perfect setting for Holy Week. Not for the first days of Spring.
Our spirits sometimes reflect the atmosphere. I witness a much quieter city street. Notice a lack of activity outside. I find my interior space and prefer its warmth than to expose it to the elements of life and living. Susie and Deliah instinctually know when to withdraw—disappear under the bed or into a closet. As much as we need sunshine, we need rain for the opportunity to run and seek the shelter of our interior self. Take a minute or two to sit today instead of cleaning out closets or spring cleaning.
Twenty minutes of meditation can add minutes to your life instead of subtracting from it. That’s the simple arithmetic. Dr. Robert Schneider, director of the Institute for Natural Medicine and Prevention, a research institute based at the Maharishi University of Management in Fairfield, Iowa, suggests that the stress reduction produced by meditation can cause changes in the brain that cut stress hormones like cortisol and dampen the inflammatory processes associated with atherosclerosis (http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9A0CE6D91238F937A15752C1A96F9C8B63). That’s pretty powerful stuff.
So, I am putting the Pledge and dust cloth down. Today, while it teems “cats and dogs” outside, I am meditating with my cats. Notice the little sign outside our door, “Knock before entering.”
Monday, March 29, 2010
The Lord Is My Light and Salvation
The Lord is my light and my salvation.
Ps 27: 1a
Cats give up the ability to see fine detail and rich colors in exchange for the ability to see in the dark (http://www.cathealth.com/CatEyes.htm). Deliah, Susie and I see the world differently. When there is darkness, I need light. But human darkness is far more than just an absence of light. It is also the absence of hope.
There are times when the world is darker. There are days. There are months. There are years. They are shaded by events beyond our control or created by our own mistakes or the mistakes of others. Unlike a cat, we are unable to see through the dark night.
Some psalms are such simple metaphors, such simple guides to spiritual living but not easy to live. When we are in the dark—alone and afraid—it is difficult to remember that anyone is there for us.
I am reminded of the horrible images after the earthquake in Haiti and one particular rescue. A woman entombed in the rubble for several days, assumed dead, was found alive. At first, only her head and face emerged and she began to sing in Creole a hymn of thanksgiving and praise. It brought tears to my eyes. I was so moved by her faith. She was symbolic of Haiti’s resurrection.
Whatever darkness, whatever pain, whatever disappointment, there is always prayer. And from it, light.
Ps 27: 1a
Cats give up the ability to see fine detail and rich colors in exchange for the ability to see in the dark (http://www.cathealth.com/CatEyes.htm). Deliah, Susie and I see the world differently. When there is darkness, I need light. But human darkness is far more than just an absence of light. It is also the absence of hope.
There are times when the world is darker. There are days. There are months. There are years. They are shaded by events beyond our control or created by our own mistakes or the mistakes of others. Unlike a cat, we are unable to see through the dark night.
Some psalms are such simple metaphors, such simple guides to spiritual living but not easy to live. When we are in the dark—alone and afraid—it is difficult to remember that anyone is there for us.
I am reminded of the horrible images after the earthquake in Haiti and one particular rescue. A woman entombed in the rubble for several days, assumed dead, was found alive. At first, only her head and face emerged and she began to sing in Creole a hymn of thanksgiving and praise. It brought tears to my eyes. I was so moved by her faith. She was symbolic of Haiti’s resurrection.
Whatever darkness, whatever pain, whatever disappointment, there is always prayer. And from it, light.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
My God, My God, Why Have You Abandoned Me?
My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
Ps 22: 2a
These are powerful words. So powerful, they are remembered. Maybe not chapter or verse, but they are remembered. It is the utterance of human identification. A collective fear. A sometime in a lifetime moment.
I doubt that Deliah or Susie have processed their abandonment so long ago. They only sought food and warmth and shelter. Without the burden of thinking, they escaped the fears of their own making. Worrying about how they would eat next month or even next week.
How many times I have uttered that phrase. In different ways but with the same intention. How many times I have felt so alone that even God has walked out of the room. But I am not alone. We all suffer disappointments. Setbacks. Illnesses. Rents go unpaid. People get sick. Things don’t go the way that we want. Our loved ones hurt us. Hurt us again. We suffer sleepless nights worrying about the things that need to be put in God’s hands. Why have you abandoned us?
When I am suffering my angst, I need open my eyes. I need to notice God in the disappointments and in the despair. High school seniors running a dress boutique restore the dreams for needy girls to go to a prom or to a Sweet 16. Operation Fairy Dust is God walking into the room. (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/nyregion/28about.html?ref=nyregion) A donor’s conference at the United Nations discusses the ways in which monies from around the world will help rebuild Haiti. (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/opinion/28sun1.html?hp) We can criticize the world for abandoning many places but can applaud it loudly when it resounds of God’s love. We are God’s response to the question.
When I am suffering my angst, I need to know I’m human. It’s all right to be fearful. It’s all right to feel alone. Christ sat in the Garden of Gethsemane and felt the same way. Christ got down on his knees and prayed. That’s all I need to do, too. A very human man was afraid and called out in his fear. When I do the same, I am heard, too.
Ps 22: 2a
These are powerful words. So powerful, they are remembered. Maybe not chapter or verse, but they are remembered. It is the utterance of human identification. A collective fear. A sometime in a lifetime moment.
I doubt that Deliah or Susie have processed their abandonment so long ago. They only sought food and warmth and shelter. Without the burden of thinking, they escaped the fears of their own making. Worrying about how they would eat next month or even next week.
How many times I have uttered that phrase. In different ways but with the same intention. How many times I have felt so alone that even God has walked out of the room. But I am not alone. We all suffer disappointments. Setbacks. Illnesses. Rents go unpaid. People get sick. Things don’t go the way that we want. Our loved ones hurt us. Hurt us again. We suffer sleepless nights worrying about the things that need to be put in God’s hands. Why have you abandoned us?
When I am suffering my angst, I need open my eyes. I need to notice God in the disappointments and in the despair. High school seniors running a dress boutique restore the dreams for needy girls to go to a prom or to a Sweet 16. Operation Fairy Dust is God walking into the room. (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/nyregion/28about.html?ref=nyregion) A donor’s conference at the United Nations discusses the ways in which monies from around the world will help rebuild Haiti. (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/opinion/28sun1.html?hp) We can criticize the world for abandoning many places but can applaud it loudly when it resounds of God’s love. We are God’s response to the question.
When I am suffering my angst, I need to know I’m human. It’s all right to be fearful. It’s all right to feel alone. Christ sat in the Garden of Gethsemane and felt the same way. Christ got down on his knees and prayed. That’s all I need to do, too. A very human man was afraid and called out in his fear. When I do the same, I am heard, too.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Slow is as equally important as Fast.....
Hear the word of the LORD, O nations,
proclaim it on distant isles, and say:
He who scattered Israel, now gathers them together,
he guards them as a shepherd his flock.
Jeremiah 31:10
I can’t remember the last time I sat and reflected on anything. Life has been just too busy. When my life becomes as fanatic as it’s been, it always leads me to the question, Is this what God wants?
Jeremiah’s passage reminds me of how often the Lord as my Shepherd metaphor is used and how apropos it is. I must appear as a lamb who has become separated from the rest of the flock. running aimlessly searching for the safety and warmth and protection of “my family.” When I think of my life in those terms, I already know the answer.
That’s the wonderful thing about Susie and Deliah as my role models. They do not do anything fanatically; I don’t believe the word is in a cat’s vocabulary. Oh, I have seen them run pass skidding across the wood floor and tumblesaulting onto the bed and spring boarding upon the dresser. That is not fanatic. Nor is it rushing. That is cat gymnastics. Afterwards, there is always a well-deserved nap.
Fanatic, in modern terms, probably has become nuanced by a frenzy of movement rather than motivation. Oh, I am sure there are but a few religious fanatics around, but fanatically fueled people abound. Unlike Deliah and Susie, society applauds those who accumulate wealth and measure success by appearance. An enormous amount of our time is spent devoted to those things while we neglect the more important aspects of what comprises a quality life: rest, relaxation, recreation and reflection.
It is already Holy Week and either my busy schedule or its effect on me has kept me from spiritually engaging in this very important remembrance of Christ’s life. Susie and Deliah, sleeping at my side, remind me that slow is as equally important as fast. I can choose not to rush. I can choose to rest between what has to be done. And not everything has to be done in one day. I can choose what is important and what is not.
I can always find gratitude in my day. If I only slow up long enough to be able to glance the blessings in between.
proclaim it on distant isles, and say:
He who scattered Israel, now gathers them together,
he guards them as a shepherd his flock.
Jeremiah 31:10
I can’t remember the last time I sat and reflected on anything. Life has been just too busy. When my life becomes as fanatic as it’s been, it always leads me to the question, Is this what God wants?
Jeremiah’s passage reminds me of how often the Lord as my Shepherd metaphor is used and how apropos it is. I must appear as a lamb who has become separated from the rest of the flock. running aimlessly searching for the safety and warmth and protection of “my family.” When I think of my life in those terms, I already know the answer.
That’s the wonderful thing about Susie and Deliah as my role models. They do not do anything fanatically; I don’t believe the word is in a cat’s vocabulary. Oh, I have seen them run pass skidding across the wood floor and tumblesaulting onto the bed and spring boarding upon the dresser. That is not fanatic. Nor is it rushing. That is cat gymnastics. Afterwards, there is always a well-deserved nap.
Fanatic, in modern terms, probably has become nuanced by a frenzy of movement rather than motivation. Oh, I am sure there are but a few religious fanatics around, but fanatically fueled people abound. Unlike Deliah and Susie, society applauds those who accumulate wealth and measure success by appearance. An enormous amount of our time is spent devoted to those things while we neglect the more important aspects of what comprises a quality life: rest, relaxation, recreation and reflection.
It is already Holy Week and either my busy schedule or its effect on me has kept me from spiritually engaging in this very important remembrance of Christ’s life. Susie and Deliah, sleeping at my side, remind me that slow is as equally important as fast. I can choose not to rush. I can choose to rest between what has to be done. And not everything has to be done in one day. I can choose what is important and what is not.
I can always find gratitude in my day. If I only slow up long enough to be able to glance the blessings in between.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Instinct to Run
No more shall people call you “Forsaken, “
or your land “Desolate, “
but you shall be called “My Delight, “
and your land “Espoused.”
For the LORD delights in you
and makes your land his spouse.
As a young man marries a virgin,
your Builder shall marry you;
and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride
so shall your God rejoice in you.
Is 62:4-5
My morning meditation with Susie and Deliah is my quiet time, my time and space to jumpstart a smooth ride for my day. The last few days, my meditations have been distracted by the many images of tragedy from Haiti.
Today, instead of tragedy, I saw a nation rising. A phoenix. Groups of people assembling together to pray. Amazing. Grace. These people deserve an answer to their prayers.
I read this Scripture passage from Isaiah and know these “forsaken” mustn’t remain this way. From the rubble, from the ashes, they need their land to be called “espoused.”
Haiti, caught off guard, could not escape like a cat might even if it had felt the preceding P-waves of disaster. It was not prepared. It had been so forsaken long ago that it was too ill-prepared. It lacked the infrastructure needed to withstand a quake, the technology to predict one, the foresight to safeguard its people. Poverty and the world’s disregard shook this nation long before an earthquake.
Cats, like Susie and Deliah, use instinct to run before an earthquake. The ancient Greeks used cats as the earliest seismologic instruments.
Haitians have used instinct, too, to run before—political upheavals, economic despair, national crisis. They had nothing left to use to help with natural disasters.
The Creole expression, “Behind the mountains, there are more mountains,” paints a people of strength and faith. They are as determined as they are devout. That they gathered today prayerfully together to worship is testament to their holiness. And may God only bless them.
or your land “Desolate, “
but you shall be called “My Delight, “
and your land “Espoused.”
For the LORD delights in you
and makes your land his spouse.
As a young man marries a virgin,
your Builder shall marry you;
and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride
so shall your God rejoice in you.
Is 62:4-5
My morning meditation with Susie and Deliah is my quiet time, my time and space to jumpstart a smooth ride for my day. The last few days, my meditations have been distracted by the many images of tragedy from Haiti.
Today, instead of tragedy, I saw a nation rising. A phoenix. Groups of people assembling together to pray. Amazing. Grace. These people deserve an answer to their prayers.
I read this Scripture passage from Isaiah and know these “forsaken” mustn’t remain this way. From the rubble, from the ashes, they need their land to be called “espoused.”
Haiti, caught off guard, could not escape like a cat might even if it had felt the preceding P-waves of disaster. It was not prepared. It had been so forsaken long ago that it was too ill-prepared. It lacked the infrastructure needed to withstand a quake, the technology to predict one, the foresight to safeguard its people. Poverty and the world’s disregard shook this nation long before an earthquake.
Cats, like Susie and Deliah, use instinct to run before an earthquake. The ancient Greeks used cats as the earliest seismologic instruments.
Haitians have used instinct, too, to run before—political upheavals, economic despair, national crisis. They had nothing left to use to help with natural disasters.
The Creole expression, “Behind the mountains, there are more mountains,” paints a people of strength and faith. They are as determined as they are devout. That they gathered today prayerfully together to worship is testament to their holiness. And may God only bless them.
Friday, January 8, 2010
"The Power of Pause"--The Orb of the Sun, Resplendent at Its Rising
The clear vault of the sky shines forth like heaven itself, a vision of glory.
The orb of the sun, resplendent at its rising:
what a wonderful work of the Most High!
Sir 43: 1-2
Cats are often seen at twilight or dawn--those transitional times between light and darkness. They prepare for a day of napping while I prepare for a day of work. That's why Susie and Deliah are such good company for me when I get up. They are serene and still, preparing for sleep. They force me to pause and prepare for life. Pausing, I have found, is a cunning cat behavior required before "the pounce". I certainly am not prepared to hunt or "to pounce", but pausing before taking action has proved a worthwhile idea to model. So, most mornings, we pause.
During winter, it is far too dark most mornings and this morning, in particular, it's snowed, so one more extra task has been added to my morning routine. I am not looking forward to leaving my warm cocoon of an apartment to enter the cold harsh winter air. Winter wonderland? It is not. At least, not from my perspective right now.
And that's how Susie and Deliah help me so immensely; that's how sitting with them and pausing helps me, too. Pausing. Praying. Changing perspectives. Today-I am looking out my window and creating a list of word associations that spiral into the descent of Dante's hell: snow, cold, traffic, accidents, shoveling. And then, climbing out.
If I choose to. If I sit with Susie and Del for a few minutes, read a Scripture passage and take a moment, just a moment, to pray. My word list begins to turn itself around: snow, white, crystal, peace--yes, wonderland. I can read words from Sirach, what a wonderful work of the most High, and agree. Two minutes before, I hadn't felt that way. Now, I can begin to marvel at the wonder-white world I've just awakened to.
According to the Buddhist religion, the body of the cat is the temporary resting place of the soul of very spiritual people. I look at Susie. I look at Deliah. Almost every time I do, I wonder. Who, who, I think, might have they been? I don't know. But I do know that because of them, I have recognized the power of pause. And I am thankful.
http://www.usccb.org/nab/bible/sirach/sirach43.htm
The orb of the sun, resplendent at its rising:
what a wonderful work of the Most High!
Sir 43: 1-2
Cats are often seen at twilight or dawn--those transitional times between light and darkness. They prepare for a day of napping while I prepare for a day of work. That's why Susie and Deliah are such good company for me when I get up. They are serene and still, preparing for sleep. They force me to pause and prepare for life. Pausing, I have found, is a cunning cat behavior required before "the pounce". I certainly am not prepared to hunt or "to pounce", but pausing before taking action has proved a worthwhile idea to model. So, most mornings, we pause.
During winter, it is far too dark most mornings and this morning, in particular, it's snowed, so one more extra task has been added to my morning routine. I am not looking forward to leaving my warm cocoon of an apartment to enter the cold harsh winter air. Winter wonderland? It is not. At least, not from my perspective right now.
And that's how Susie and Deliah help me so immensely; that's how sitting with them and pausing helps me, too. Pausing. Praying. Changing perspectives. Today-I am looking out my window and creating a list of word associations that spiral into the descent of Dante's hell: snow, cold, traffic, accidents, shoveling. And then, climbing out.
If I choose to. If I sit with Susie and Del for a few minutes, read a Scripture passage and take a moment, just a moment, to pray. My word list begins to turn itself around: snow, white, crystal, peace--yes, wonderland. I can read words from Sirach, what a wonderful work of the most High, and agree. Two minutes before, I hadn't felt that way. Now, I can begin to marvel at the wonder-white world I've just awakened to.
According to the Buddhist religion, the body of the cat is the temporary resting place of the soul of very spiritual people. I look at Susie. I look at Deliah. Almost every time I do, I wonder. Who, who, I think, might have they been? I don't know. But I do know that because of them, I have recognized the power of pause. And I am thankful.
http://www.usccb.org/nab/bible/sirach/sirach43.htm
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
