When my dead cat Coe came to me during my near-death-experience over a decade ago and showed me that I had to learn to put my burdens down, I realized that cats have a special relationship with the afterlife. The Egyptians knew this–cats were mummified and honored as having souls. This is why I want to write about a special cat who had a dignified death.
But first, some history: When I was a kid, nobody BOUGHT you books–you read what was available on your family’s bookshelves. In my case, it was James Thurber, especially his wonderful short story, "Snapshot of a Dog." In it, he tells about the family’s pet dog, who obviously knew he was dying, but waited all day to say good bye to each person in the family before finally dropping dead at the author’s feet (he was the last one home). He made a special effort to put his burdens down.
Now I come to Hunan. He lived with our friends Leigh and Carla McCloskey. I say ‘lived with’ because he was not a pet. I used to tell Leigh and Carla, "You can’t fool me–I recognize a guru in a cat suit when I see one!"
He became ill and began disappearing, then turning up in places where he could not possibly have gone. It was as if he was living between the worlds, partly still a material body but also something else. Then he was discovered lying outside by the pond in their garden. He was lying on a flat stone, staring down into the water at his own reflection. He remained like that, motionless, for some time. It seemed to everybody involved that he was in a state of deep contemplation or meditation. Then he died.
He was buried nearby, in the place that he loved, honoring what would certainly have been his wish.
The image shows Hunan during his final contemplation at the pond.
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I think all our cats are here
I think all our cats are here until the next earth change , and like us they will elevate!
Anne, what a lovely and
Anne, what a lovely and moving Diary……THANK YOU for including the Leigh and Carla McCloskey YouTube’s. EVERYONE, YOU ALL NEED TO CHECK THESE OUT. It especially resonated with me because last Friday my friend and I toured the newly completed EAST BUILDING of the ART MUSEUM in my city. http://www.slam.org/ We went to the Yoko Ono: Wish Tree and tied on a wish. My wish went to (THOTH). Without saying exactly what I wished for (do not to jinx my wish) I realized I forgot something REALLY important that will take me back to the museum this coming week. When asking/wishing for something, the first thought/words should be…..’PLEASE GRANT ME WISDOM’.
I’m always fascinated by how
I’m always fascinated by how my 12 year old cat sometimes seems to be looking at someone or somebody or some entity that I can’t see. Thanks for the above cat-story and pic; we can learn alot from cats!
Recently, I turned 45 and one
Recently, I turned 45 and one of my friends said “Wow, that’s old..!” Haha, good old Peter Pan, he’s almost 40 himself.. aye caramba!!
I recall feeling mild horror at 29 when faced with the prospect of turning 30. How silly that seems now. Thinking back to 36, I felt little about turning 40 and turning 45 was particularly easy.
What a pleasant surprise to discover that one doesn’t mind change. Good Lord what a gift.
These past few months, my late Father has visited me several times in powerful dreams, (he’s a smashing bloke btw); the last visit appeared to be an attempt (or an assessment of some kind) to reconcile the lack of affinity between my Mother and I.
The poor old dear smoked all her life near enough and I feel such all consuming physical revulsion for tobacco and smoking in general that it has overshadowed her very essence. Indeed, seen out of the body, the toxicity built up over a lifetime was evident, even to the point of making all her skin appear stained.
It’s hard to see how such complexities can be navigated around at times and yet I think back to what Mr Strieber says now and again about the body’s time being a chance for change. Thus, I wish my Mother well and quietly step away, knowing that others far wiser are working on her troubled condition. Ungrateful? No, don’t be silly. I just choose not to suffer sour toxicity and calmly step away without trying to insult her. Best thing to do I reckon.
The sense that I get from this and similar occurrences is that those who watch over us are quite laid back and relaxed about the whole thing. I like the idea of that; that there isn’t, in fact, a need to fuss and rush about trying to ‘evolve’ or radiate into a godlike light-being.
Listening to this radio prgramme for just over ten years now has meant a lot to me, living perfectly happily alone, or as alone as one can be in a Universal classroom of scholarly growth. So many of the Dreamland shows have been listened to 4, 5, six times over again and again.
Thing is, if I bumped into Mr and Mrs Strieber, I doubt we’d have much to chat about, mainly since being a solitary bird is almost a holy thing in itself and like a good daisy chain is at its best unbroken. Then I think about William Henry’s trip to Egypt some years back where an ecstasy-taking stripper from Las Vegas maid wild claims about being a reborn nefertiti (no pun intended) or something along those lines, and I just know that I’d get on well with that crazy, loveable, rainbow-like woman.
It does indeed take all manners of essence to give us some sense of contrast and that is what Mr and Mrs Strieber (and the whole Dreamland team) have done with this programme.
Yes, the overall impression they give is that we have all the world’s, in time.
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