In the flat where I live, upon the TV I seldom watch, sits a black and tan cat, belonging to a housemate. The cat does not move and she does not blink and, to my knowledge, she has no name. Unlike most cats, who come forth from the womb of feline mothers, this nameless, black and tan cat found birth through the widdling and sculpting of a block of wood in the hands of some unknown artisan or perhaps in the metal grasp of machinery in some wooden house-cat factory. All the same, she’s a good cat, pleasant and comforting, despite her immobility.
I pass this cat every day on the way to or from my room and I’ve grown quite used to her. But I must admit that I’ve far too often taken for granted the cat atop the TV. Most days I don’t even wave or say hello. I suppose it’s because I’m concerned that if I see the cat, I’ll see the TV and, if I see the TV, I’ll watch the TV and there will go my day–and my mind. But why should the black-and-tan cat suffer so, for what amounts to anxiety over my own powers of self-discipline?
Besides, that cat is doing something, providing some message, as she sits atop that TV, looking off into the distance at the wall–or beyond it. (And there must be some reason why, when I moved here, I felt the need to buy a small tin of cat food and some cat nip to place on her right and left sides up there.) So, I’ve decided to practice the 10-Ways experiment by giving her a fuller share of my attention, for once.
(If you need a reminder of what this experiment of mine is about, go here. At some point, when I figure out how to do so, I might append an image of the black-and-tan, wood cat to this post.)
The 10 Ways Experiment 4/7/07: The Cat on the TV
Some of these ways of seeing the cat will, of course overlap:
1. The cat sits there to keep the TV from taking flight, reeking havoc upon the flat, smashing into walls, breaking furniture and bruising people as it forces its mad, chattering visuals upon everyone.
2. The cat is just staying warm.
3. The cat is subtly reminding all who sit in front of the TV that they can still choose to turn around.
4. The cat, in its silent stillness, is demonstrating the tranquil attainment of no-mind. She reminds one that in order to reach the greatest spiritual heights one must first stand above the incessant arising of loud and distracting thoughts, represented by the various channels and programs of the TV. One must separate from the noise and realize that you are not your thoughts ( and, moreover, the thoughts aren’t even yours, sponsored as they are by forces outside of your true essence). Only when one has separated from thought and risen above mind, can one really see the view–or the no-view.
5. The cat is practicing that first step in magickal training: staring at a wall.
6. The cat is staring through the wall, keeping tabs on the neighbors, a couple who, judging by the noises sometimes eminating from the other side of the plaster, really might want to keep it down–or at least move it to the bedroom. This makes the cat either a stalwart defender of our ears…or a randy voyeur.
7. The cat is my housemate’s familiar. And my housemate is, unbeknownst to me, actually carved from wood.
8. The cat is a temple idol to Sehkmet. If this be the case, I’m at a loss as to how to placate her bloodlust in the world.
9. The cat is watching, patiently, for the wall to move, at which point the cat will pounce upon its plaster prey.
10. The cat is keeping a silent vigil for the return of the Kool-Aid Man.
And a few more…
11. The cat is a a vessel for spirits to inhabit. Unbeknownst to me, when I moved here and bought the cat food and catnip and placed them next to the wooden feline, I provided an inducement for some dead cat to come and possess it–apparently, a very docile, dead cat.
12. The cat is waiting to be stroked, petted, talked to, and made real.
13. The cat is not exactly wood–it is, but it isn’t. This is what the 9th life of every cat is: life as an inanimate object. (Or maybe, this is what the 1st life of every cat is–which explains all of their random, crazy energy in their other incarnations–they’re making up for lost time.)
I encourage you to try this experiment with objects, people, events and other phenomena of your daily life/world and see what it does for you. And feel free to report back here on any 10 Ways Experiments you undertake.
[...] taking an unofficial break, but figured I’d break some of the site silence to continue my 10 Ways Experiment. To briefly refresh anyone’s memory out there or to initiate them into this little exercise, [...]