What to do About Simone -- A Cat Koan*

My cat, Simone, sees things that I don't. She swipes at the air and leaps after phantoms just out of her reach. Sometimes she reaches under something that is totally invisible, curling her paw beneath an imaginary cabinet or sofa, like a mime creating the object, wall, or window that is not there.

I wonder if she is cat-crazy. Or if I am just too stuck in material carnality to perceive that which is more subtle than the here-and-now, beefy, luggish, concrete. She is a smart cat.

She might have access to colors I don't see, to sounds too high or low for my ears to detect, to touch so sensitive it perceives temperatures or pressure or heat or cold out of my range of noticing.

If I had to infer what she is looking for, it might be her brother who died a while back. He may be reaching for her from the other side of something I don't understand. Sometimes I see him, and others who are no longer here, in dreams. Simone might be able to dream while she is awake

They say that some yogis can see auras, that psychics can see angels that follow us around trying to get a word in edgewise between the chatter of mental distraction, that medical intuitives can see into the body.

Most wise teachers agree that we (the untutored) don't SEE what is in front of us. Some also say that when the student is ready, the cat will appear.

Still I don't know what to do about Simone.

Maybe I should take her to a cat counselor, a feline psychotherapist, a kitty curandera.

Or I could get down to her level and try to see what is going on down there. I have tried to talk to her, but she just looks at me, with great patience and mild pity.

Someone with business sense would post her on YouTube and turn her into a cyber celebrity.

Or I could just ignore the her odd behaviors and carry on, apologizing to the sensible ones for my crazy cat.

Either way, she doesn't seem to care what I think. She seems happy responding to things I don't grasp. What to do about such a thing? What to do when a heart goes wild at the scent of possibility? How to react when the knees go weak and I want to kneel at the wonder of it all? What to say when the body can't find words that need to be said, the urgency pounding at the walls of a container due for opening?

Something has broken open in me and the answer of what to do, part of me knows, lies in listening to a crazy cat who see things I have not yet learned to see.


*Apologies to all who are tired of cat/dog/pet cuteness video saturation.