I believe.. nothing

The question has been asked so many times. "Just what do you believe in?" It is a question I have asked myself, often enough. And the answer has changed, many times, along the way. It even changes depending on who is asking, and in what context. But ultimately, I think only one answer is 100% accurate. I believe nothing. Because to every belief I have that I always thought was rock solid, there are circumstances which I know will make me change my point of view. Take "killing is wrong", for instance. I do believe that, at the bottom of my core. I am actually a type that will go through great trouble to put a spider I find inside the house outside, rather than just killing it. And yet, if someone threatened to harm my children, or take my life.. or if killing was the merciful thing to do, to end tremendous suffering.. I know I could, and quite likely would, kill. Religion is another example. Do I believe there is a divine being ruling us all? No. Yet, I speak of the Goddess, the One I am sworn to serve, since many a lifetime, and for many a lifetime to come. Ahh.. so here's something I do believe in.. reincarnation, right? No. I can honestly say that when I die, and it turns out there is nothing beyond death, I will not be disappointed in any way. I will still know I did the best I could, during the time I had. Okay. Think. Do I believe in me? Hmm. Not beyond the point where I try to make the best of each moment, making the best choice I can, during that moment. If afterwards that choice turns out to make me less happy, I'll choose differently under similar circumstances, the next time. The Dalai Lama was right; "if you lose.. don't lose the lesson". Ah, waidaminute.. so I do believe in growth, in evolving into a better person? Truly a worthy cause to live for. But the truth is.. I don't really believe in that, either. I see it happen, but I don't take it as a given, and I'll fully accept it if it doesn't happen, for whatever reason. All I really know for sure is that I am. Not even the here and now are rock solid, because what is time anyhow, and place is a relative thing. if my body is sitting here, and I'm thinking about someone far away.. just where am "I"? Who is this "I" person anyhow? Is she my body? My mind? My soul? Am I a callcenter employee? a mother? A freelance consultant? a writer? an artist? a fantasy maybe, or a nightmare, depending on who you ask? The funny thing with this type of soul searching is that, the more you think, the less you know. Which might seem to be a scary thought, but it's not really. I think that, once you give up the concept that things need to be either this or that, and simply accept that today's vision may be tomorrows failure, or triumph, or both at the same time, you find tremendous freedom, and peace. To quote Forrest Gump: "Life is a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get". But it is in this absolute uncertainty, this fluidity in thinking and expextations, as well as in truly seeing every choice, every challenge, and every waking breath as a chocolate, something to enjoy and savour.. that true happiness is found.

My baby

All my life, I have had cats. Although I love other types of animals too, there's something about cats that I just can't describe that makes me prefer them above any other animal. I love their independance combined with cuddliness and warmth and how they have this air of total freedom and a "of course I love you, when and if I want to".

Doerak (Rascal in English) was no different. He was 6 weeks old when I got him. A friend fetched him from the farm where he had been born. She stood on my doorstep and this tiny red and white furry head curiously peeked out of her coat and then she handed him to me going "here, I know your last two cats passed away so I thought you would be the perfect new mom for this little rascal". And she was right.

At the time, my daughter was only a very small baby, and she would cry during all her waking moments, until I bought a carrier for her, much like the ones you often see in documentaries about Africa: a warm, soft, cloth wrapper going from my left shoulder to my right hip, letting the baby sleep against the mother's chest and listen to her heartbeat. It worked miracles for my girl and soon, the little red kitten decided it was his favorite sleeping spot as well and he would either join her there or lay there alone when she was in bed. Cuddled up against me, purring deeply.

2 years later my son was born. Both my children loved the, now fully grown, red and white cat, but small as they were they frequently stuck fingers in his eyes or pulled his tail, and he has always been afraid of little children since, as well as very fast in his responses if he as much as suspected someone was going to hurt him. He has bitten and scratched us numerous times, and for this reason my husband never liked him, always stating the animal was "totally unreliable and as crazy as it gets". I suppose he was, but he was also a very friendly, cuddly cat who, even as an adult, still preferred to be held like a baby, against my chest, tummy up and purring loudly. He had his own way of asking to be held that way: he would meow loudly and as soon as I crouched to pet him, stand on his hind legs, wrapping his front paws around my neck, lile a toddler asking to be lifted and carried. During those moments I would go "aww, are you my baby?" and he would purr insanely loud.

When the dog arrived some 2 years ago, Doerak had a hard time dealing. They have never liked each other, primarily because Doerak loved stealing the dog's food and the dog would get majorly upset over it. Which never really stopped Doerak, he would simply withdraw behind a cabinet or in a small corner, munching happily on a mouthful of stolen dog food while growling at the dog, not impressed at all by the dog jumping up and down and barking his head off.

He got older and older and as the years passed by, he was sick a lot, but always made miraculous recoveries. He survived pneumonia several times, always had a snotty nose which was at times less than pleasant, since his favorite sleeping spot was in my bed, on my pillow, his paws in my hair.

Over the past few weeks he quickly deteriorated. He lost weight rapidly, ending up looking very skinny, and then he stopped eating completely. Too weak to stand on his legs (but doing it anyhow) he kept coming to me for hugs and cuddles last night and this morning, then moving away again to find a quiet corner to lay in. It was, as if his body had died already, but his spirit refused to give in. And so we had to take a decision: wait until he dies, which would quite possibly mean several more days of suffering, slowly starving to death or end it, here and now. We took him to the vet, who examined him and agreed there was no hope and that euthanising him was the merciful thing to do. I held him in my arms, wrapped in a cloth, as the syringe that would put him to sleep was inserted, memories of that tiny furball in the baby carrier flashing through my mind. Petted him until after his heart had stopped after we put him on the table for the final injection. Softly talking to him and telling him it was allright, just sleep. And so he slid off, gently, to where there is no more suffering.

Goodbye Doerak. Thank you for almost 15 years of friendship, craziness, making me laugh and being a loyal, warm, purring companion always. My baby. I am so, so going to miss you.