A Take on Meditation

In amidst a conventional life of work, family and interests I have practised meditation of the sitting and watching breath type with some pretentious link to Zen meditation.  I think over the many years I have 'learnt how to meditate' - whatever that means. By my own lights my short period of sitting (on a meditation chair) has afforded a brief segue into a gentler and more somatic consciousness which is refreshing and recreating. I mention somatic as I think the posture in meditation is as important as the attentiveness to  breath. Over time these experiences have perhaps tuned my outlook to a more detached kind. (As a natural Outsider I wonder if this is the right way to go.) I have always avoided any connection of meditation with spiritual things or other cosmic penetrations. I also do not put any great store in the curative effects of meditation physically or mentally. If meditation does impact upon the person it is somewhat ineffable and subtle, certainly not usefully detectable by self-analysis or crude scientific measuring of brain waves. But oddly while the 'results' are subliminal I find myself wishing to instil the practice into  a more Taoistic view of life. I am also no fan of the word 'practice' which suggests ambition, attainment-seeking and accomplishment.  My meditation chair was made by Dynamo House, Melbourne. It is the folding variety and has collapsed several time requiring makeshift repairs.  After I developed a circulation problem in my leg a kind thread person put some padding on the seat so now I would put it into the luxury category.  

A Difficult Cat

Our cat is anything but a nice cat.  He is rather grumpy. We think we was a factory cattery cat.  The big mistake was going to a pet store to buy a kitten but being talked into taking a free cat if we brought a certain value in cat paraphernalia. It is no wonder he was free.  But I do not dwell on his negative side.  I try to avoid the nasty swings of his claws or his quite strong nipping. His frustration when he does not get what he wants is just a facet of his congenital anxiety. This also comes into play when a stranger visits the house and he heads for the hills.  He learnt distrust I suppose from being separated from his mother at an early age.  He has never got over his separation from her suckling, warmth and love. So I try to fit in with him.  He is fed on time with good quality food.  I give him affection even when he does not respond.  I try to bring out his best side.  I do not condemn him. I do not negatively compare him to the other cats we have owned.  He is not here for our amusement. He is his own cat and has his own life. He rewards us with his beauty, even present after 12 years, his sullen superiority, his quiet dwelling in the garden and his presence which is full of a transcendent silence.