Sensing Lent 34: Cat

'Pippi' (Dutch)

I sometimes wish I were a cat. Sleep a lot, someone feeds you every day, nothing much to worry about. It's the nothing much to worry about which is so attractive. Recently I read a good philosophical account of why human consciousness means we do worry but we can also experience more happiness than animals, for the same reason. It is all to do with living in the present.

'For the animal to be happy it is enough that this moment be enjoyable. But man is hardly satisfied with this at all. He is much more concerned to have enjoyable memories and expectations - especially the latter. With these assured he can put up with an extremely miserable present. Without this assurance he can be extremely miserable in the midst of immediate physical pleasure' (Alan W. Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity, 1951).

We do seem to be both burdened and blessed by a sense of the passing of time, which cats do not have. There are things in the future I worry about and things which I anticipate which fill me with pleasure. The present is the thing I struggle with. Perhaps that's why cats can seem to be so patient. In the event of a door being closed, or someone not yet being up in the morning, the cats in our house will sit looking at the door. As soon as it opens, they spring into action. But they don't appear bothered to hurry the moment. They'll look out the window for hours.

If I have managed by the end of Lent to be more present in the moment, perhaps by watching cats, I will have learnt something useful. 

Candlemas cats

I was having kittens today. 

To be accurate, I got kittens today. On Candlemas. Candlemas cats. Of course they're still very small at the moment. We've been wanting to look after some very small helpless little things for some time. Since we went on holiday without our (now very grown up) eldest son and stayed with some friends who had a cat. It may have been the combination of being exposed to a cat whilst missing a grown up child. The onset of 'empty nest syndrome' can do strange things to you.

Candlemas would appear to be an ancient custom dating back to the 5th Century Church, whereby candles were blessed at the midway point between Christmas and Easter - a kind of church half term celebration that winter is half way through. A last look back at Christmas before we look towards Lent. The reading is from Luke 2:22-40 where Mary and Joseph bring their first born son and present him in the Temple according to Jewish custom, along with a sacrifice of two pigeons - a poor person's offering.

Of course every parent thinks their child is a little bit more special than the rest, but Mary and Joseph must have had an inkling that in their case it could be really true. Simeon and Anna, the two elderly named believers they met in the Temple that day knew it to be true. They were watching and waiting for the Lord's Messiah. Whilst others looked for a powerful deliverer they were attuned to the still small voice. They both recognised it was this baby who would grow up to 'cause the rising and falling of many in Israel' and a sword would pierce Mary's heart because of his calling.

Because you can't hold onto them for ever. It is always hard to let go, let them grow up. Children don't stay children for ever. And kittens don't stay kittens for ever.