Sometimes We Think You Like Your Cat More Than Us...?

When I was the Center Coordinator at a meditation center in Chicago, I had the great pleasure of the companionship of a little black kitty named Nina, Spanish for little girl.  Which she was.  She was small and sweet and shy and mostly only interested in my company.  And I was happy to provide the very best life I could for her in a good kitty way.

And one day a student at the Center said, "sometimes I think you like your cat more than us."  To which I replied, "only sometimes?"  This is apparently not the spiritually masterful response that was expected, but I think it was one of truest things I ever said.

And what is spiritually masterful if not reflecting truth in your speech.  I could have talked about the dignity of the soul or respect or universal love, but I do tend to enjoy the silent and undemanding presence of kitties over the requirements of human beings.

I have great love for many people, and lots of like for many, many more, and deep concern about and sympathy for even more than that.  But I love that kitties never need to know how my day was, or how I slept, or where our relationship stands, or what my plans are.  Their immediacy of focus is such a respite from our modern need to over-think and over-do.

I love also that they are unfiltered.  A kitty will never say one thing and mean another, never pretend that they like you petting their head when they don't.  I admire any living creature with the courage to live without compromise.