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Reflections on cat magic


“Know all things to be like this: As an echo that derives from music, sounds, and weeping, Yet in that echo is no melody.”
Sogyal Rinpoche (The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying)


This morning Jigsaw and I cast a wee cantrip. I plucked gently at his shedding coat as he liquefied in my lap under winter sun. Wisps of near nothing spiralled upwards and out, sowing rainbows and diamonds across the gentle lucidity.

In time it became an oracle; a random field of possibility manifesting unspoken insight. A swirl of tea-leaves, a constellation of stars, a fall of yarrow stalks, the turn of a card …

Many things sound like echo. Abstractions, affirmations, aphorisms, art, … emotions, …

Do I only hear myself?

From → unclassified

One Comment
  1. Great post. Jigsaw is awesome. Love his black lips. A wise soul emanates from those eyes. It’s like he’s been there, done that, sat on the t shirt.


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