writing for self-discovery

There’s a pile of rubbish behind a thick stand of banana trees. It is a treasure trove of discarded art, broken furniture, and other tids and bits of stuff nobody wants. I rarely pass by, but the other day I had opportunity to take a closer look. There, in plain sight, was one of the handsomest carved Buddha heads I’ve seen. I looked around. Nobody watching. Aware that snakes might have found a comfy home in that tangle, I approached warily, snatched it, and backed off for a closer examination. With the exception of a scrape on one side, the piece was in excellent condition.

For a few months I’d been eyeing Buddhas in the shops. But I’m picky and it had to be just right, had to speak to me…so to speak. I couldn’t have found a representation more to my liking if I’d designed it myself. Thrilled, I scouted out the perfect spot in the house for my find. The yoga platform was the obvious choice and after a few attempts at positioning, the Buddha was home. It occupied it’s place so comfortably it looked like it could always have been there.

Perhaps the kitty was attracted by the tranquility of the platform. All the peaceful yoga and meditation energy of my home is concentrated there. Cats have a hard life in Bali. They’re a far cry from the indoor pets we pamper and indulge in America. Although they may have a caring human family, there is no way to keep them confined. They roam.

My neighbor’s cats visit me on a regular basis, especially if they smell fish cooking. It’s usually a quick hi and bye if I don’t have treats. But this morning I was well into my second cup of coffee before I noticed. There, curled up beside the statue, was JoJo, the neighbor’s cat. He had found a patch of sunlight in the reverent aura of the Buddha and was fast asleep.

I chuckled, finished my coffee, and made breakfast. Still there. I began my morning writing and finished my morning writing. His only movement was an exaggerated stretch and he slept on. When I left for a walk about noon, the creature was still comatose. He must have had a hard night.

I’ve never been overly fond of cats. I’m slightly allergic and their personalities are off-putting. Either they’re haughty and unapproachable, or they mew, rub, and pester relentlessly. But this morning, watching JoJo curled up by the Buddha, I felt a little melty inside. We shared the serenity. He didn’t want anything from me other than a sunny spot on my platform. I enjoyed his quiet company, and Buddha seemed pleased.