I believe that my cat is incredibly wise. She is, as I write, still as a statue in the garden, in utter acceptance, in perfect gratitude, having found, for hours at a time, what the pharmaceutical industry would like to claim is the effect of Zoloft or Paxil. Wally has joined with the world in that way that brings deep peace and true bliss. She becomes the breeze, when it blows; she gives her approval to tulips and weeds alike. And when I feel trapped in my world of economic downturn and parenting dilemmas and hurtful remarks, I join my cat out on the grass. We let the clouds become faces, and enter the lives of new shoots bursting upwards.
It's all beautiful, to the curious. Sometimes the best prayer is just emptiness. Emptiness and a willingness to be amazed.
