Being a Cat

Do you have a cat? I have two. One is eight, the other nine. Both are Siamese. Of course, they're the smartest, furriest, most precious little cats in the whole wide world.

Ahem, where was I? Ah, cats. Some have said that cats are the true Zen masters, proficient in letting go, resting on demand, keeping their ties to the world loose. What I envy is their lack of attachment to things. Sure, one of my cats has a few toys he enjoys to play with, but he could take 'em or leave 'em. He likes his dinner, they both do, but that's a bodily necessity rather than a mental attachment. They do love us, their people, but they're more attached to each other, their own kind.

Sometimes, I wish I could be like a cat. No books, no furniture, no collections. Just be. Just enjoy emotional attachment to other people, but not to things. Things ... are just things. They can't give back, the relationship isn't reciprocal. It's all one-sided love given to something that doesn't and can't care.