Fourth Form of Madness

A few years back I was casually flicking through the local newspaper and chatting with my husband over a nice glass of chardonnay, or two, when I read a letter to the editor from a single mother who’s car had been broken into. In the car was her son’s money he had saved for a puppy he really wanted to buy and basically the mother was just airing her disappointment in the people that had broken into her car and stolen her son’s money. I really identified with the story, I to had suffered disappoints of that kind. However, the thing that really got me was the young boy not getting his puppy (I’m a big fan of dogs). Now this was still at a time when I was quite shy of strangers and getting involved, so I umed and arhed about whether I should do something. As usual hubby, the voice of pure reason, settled the matter by declaring “You should definitely do this, get involved”.

Fuelled by my hubby’s encouragement, and a touch of chardonnay, I sent an email to the editor offering to buy a dog for the little boy and vet treatment. Before I knew it I was meeting up with the mother and the son. I really hit it off with the mother right away and before long we were swapping life stories. She was a remarkable woman, and an absolute devoted mother and I felt fortunate to be part of this project to find a dog for her son. Over the next few weeks we went to various pounds and private sellers until he found the most adorable jack russell. It was a happy story all around but the thing that really struck me with this whole process is that when people found out what I was doing they all open heartedly jumped in and became involved in any way they could. From the seller knocking money off, to the vet clinic ringing me and advising that they would offer them a discount on all visits, to the local paper running a front page story on the boy with his new dog (which I declined to be named in, so when they referred to my hubby and I in the story they said “kindly elderly couple” – ouch I was only 34 then!)

The experience changed my life. Instead of studying philosophy or sociology only out of book, I was putting some of my learnings into practice into life and it was exhilarating and liberating. That experience taught me far more than I could ever learn out of a book. I learnt that we are at our best when we are of service to others. When we give because there is a need and you can fill it, it feels so natural and unfettered, so uncomplicated. I understand that many things stop us from offering assistance where assistance is needed but it is imperative that we examine what those factors stopping us are. When a large percentage of the world is living in poverty/in hunger, and a large percentage of this number are children, it is of the utmost important that we look within and understand how we define our duty of care to others, or to be topical, how we define the other. Be honest and see if what you find, sits well with how you want to be in this world. The rest is up to you 🙂

When I was about 8 one of my fellow school mates casually whispered to me at the end of story time on the mat, “It’s hard to believe that the sky goes on forever”. Now at 8 this was something I had never even considered and this statement quite literally blew my mind, or at the very least extended its boundaries. As I sat there contemplating this difficult concept, I felt how unsettled and undefined my mind had become as it had no experience to comprehend it with. I loved the feeling though, so it shouldn’t have been any surprise that I fell in love with philosophy years later.

From then on I have always had a thing with the sky. My father is a sea person, he is definitely at his happiest when he is in his boat or somehow near the water. My mother is an earthy person, her special place is her garden and she has often told me that she feels that this is her sanctuary. For me my sanctuary is the sky. If I want to kick back and relax and recharge, I can achieve it by lying on a blanket in our back garden looking up at the sky. Such feelings of ease and peace can come from this simple act.

It doesn’t even have to be the “real” sky to hold my fascination. A few years back I was at a work function at a winery in the Swan Valley. There was this amazing picture of a close up of a piece of sky that had been painted by a local artist. The mood of the picture was somewhat dark with a touch of lightness coming through at the edges and I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was achingly beautiful to me. I must have stared at it with such devotion as two of the guys I worked with decided they would go halves and buy it for me. This overwhelmed me as it was quite a lot of money but one of the guys said to me “We want to do this because the way you look at that picture it really belongs with you”. I hope this was the real reason and not the wine talking 🙂

However, my favourite association with the sky came about from a random meeting with a man on a train. One evening after working late, I flopped into a seat beside a middle aged man. We struck up a conversation about a movie he had just seen. He had a rich Spanish accent and I enjoyed what he was saying as much as how he was saying it. Before long we were having an interesting conversation basically about whether people are born good or if they learn to be it. He was of the innate persuasion and I was of the “you learn’ it conviction. On and on we discussed this topic, him using examples of what he had seen in his son as he grew up, me using examples of what I had learnt during my life. We talked so much he almost missed his stop, his parting words to me was to point out that all the things I thought I had learnt about being “good” might have been me returning to innate ideas that were already within me. Nice parting shot when I didn’t have time to reply. And then he said “Thanks for the conversation, my name is …………, which means in Spanish where the sky meets the sea.” Where the sky meets the sea, I mused over this as the train continued on and then I realised, the sky doesn’t actually meet the sea, it just appears to at the horizon. For some reason I felt that familiar unsettling of my mind that I felt when I was 8 and contemplating an infinite sky and this time I settled into its unknownness with ease.

I started yoga teacher training at the beginning of this year as I felt I was ready to learn more about yoga. Over the years I have made two previous attempts at starting this but this time, everything just felt right. Which is funny because this year is turning out to be an absolute ripper of a year in terms of work commitments, life events and other study duties. In fact, of all the years, this should have been the year that I avoided taking on anything else. And yet here I am……truly loving it all and feeling supported by it rather than crushed from it. This approach towards life is a gift from yoga, I have no idea how it works but the more you practice the more it manifests and it is truly a blessing. I sometimes liken this approach to life like being in really big surf, there’s a little fear and lots of respect for the awesome power of this body of water you are in, out of this awareness you let’s it fluidity blend with your fluidity and you flow as one, the rhythm of your breath matching the rhythm of the tide, in and out, in and out, to the song of nature. So instead of trying to tame it (also known as struggling hee hee), it reclaims you with the softest of loving touches.

So I begin my journey of teacher training and to be fair there is a lot of “what the hell am I doing here” moments as with all new things that take you away from your comfort zone. My “what the hell?” moments are sparked by the fact that of all the places I could have selected to learn at this is probably the most hands on school. Great, but I’m not a hands on kind of gal (or so I think ;-)). And yet even though I am experiencing extreme discomfort at having to get into peoples space and adjust them, I’m still feeling this is exactly where I need to be . So I go with it, Life is one entity I’ve learnt not to disagree with, it’s too wise! At the same time, I am getting intensive”hug” therapy from my friend Jane, which is slowly melting down my resistance to touching.

And then it happens, the tables are turned and instead of being the one adjusting in a therapy class, I am actually participating in it, due to a sore lower back. How lucky was I as the experience transformed me! I always kind of thought of therapy yoga as a little bit intrusive as when you are going within all this touching would bring you back out. The key word in that sentence being “thought”. Once I experienced the class through my body I realised I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was so comforting to be adjusted by my fellow yoga trainees. Their gentle yet firm touches adjusting me into the shape I should take. I felt so supported and humbled by their loving service. All of me suddenly got therapy yoga and I rested back into it and let their hands support me.

Walking out of that class that night was like walking out into a brand new day! Nothing like a shift in mindset to make you feel renewed and light and airy. I drove home in a softened mind state that told me I was going to sleep well. And I couldn’t help notice that I was also looking forward to the next class that I got to adjust in. You never know what you are going to learn when you sign up for things, it’s all about staying open to learning and letting Life take you to places you need to be at to learn the things you need to learn. Whilst all the while trying not to struggle against it to much 🙂

Sometimes we live by beliefs that have no basis in reality (actually this could happen more than sometimes :-)). We hear something so often we believe it to be true. Whole structures of society are then built around these “truths” but these structures are build on sandy ground and are not stable (although they are annoyingly persistent :-)). All it takes is a touch of awareness to watch them wobble and fall down.

A beautiful example of the above process can be illustrated by Darwin. Charles Darwin never said the words “Survival of the Fittest”, his studies and writings never supported the theory that only the strongest and fittest of a species would survive and conquer the weaker of a species. This sentiment was added to his words by minds that should have known better but blinded by their often racial or gender based discriminative projects, chose only to see the “truth” fit for their purpose. What Darwin did say is “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.” I prefer Darwin’s take on this, as we all might not be able to be the fittest or the strongest due to our individual biological makeup, but we all get equal access to adaptability, as that is largely an internal quality that you get to decide upon. Just another choice for us to make.

I have heard another saying “The two things you can rely on in life are taxes and death”. I think the saying should be “The three things you can rely on in life are taxes, death and change” hee hee. Change is constant. Take your body for example, the cells are always constantly changing and being replaced so that it is actually true to say that you are never the same person from one day to the next. Think of your thoughts, never the same, sometimes they can change radically in the space of one day. How can you look to these for any solid confirmation of who you are?

This reminds me of another one my favourite sayings by Greek Philosopher Heraclitus, “You never step into the same river twice”. The waters are always flowing, so the water you step into today, is not the water you step in tomorrow, even if you step in the exact same spot. A lot like life. Yet sometimes we always try to live life with the same habitual ways that we used for yesterday no matter what it presents us with. I can think of many situations where I am doing this right now in my life but none highlight this process as much as yoga. You can not come to a practice today with yesterday’s body.

I did the other day much to my own peril and exacerbated a touchy lower back problem I have had for the last two weeks. More fool me. However, I kind of look at this injury like a bodily warning system to slow down for a week or two. My life is fairly hectic and eventful at the moment. I thank my body for once again being the ultimate wisdom who’s ruling I have learnt not to question. I don’t stop my yoga practice, I just adapt. A chance to rekindle my love of restorative home practice which I have let slide lately. Delicious, there is nothing more stabilising and relaxing than restorative yoga. My animals love it too as they usually settle themselves in on the blankets and bolsters I use and have a nap during each asana. As one of my friends would say this is “fur therapy”. Although I must remember to clean my mat when I have done this special animal assisted form of restorative, as there is nothing like rocking up to group practice and rolling your mat out in a cloud of cat and dog fur!

So whilst we might not be endowed with the biggest biceps or Einsteins brain power, we all have choice, whether we chose to exercise this right or not. This means we can all adapt to life and in this adaptability may lie not the ability to survive life but the true ability to live her, in all her glory, come what may.

So I am on a five day mini break in the countryside. Okay so I did pack a lot of uni work, yoga reading and got my iPhone hooked up so I could check my emails at work but a funny thing happened, I got down here and haven’t been able to stop staring out windows at the countryside for hours on end. Even when I finally managed to pick up a uni book with all good intentions today, I must have read barely one paragraph before allowing my glaze to float out the window to the trees on the hillside. Oh well best to go with it, I get the feeling I am up for a busy period soon enough.

That’s not to say we haven’t been doing anything whilst down here, though admittedly the “anything” does seem to involve a lot of eating. The whole reason we came down here was to go to a long table lunch that my husband read about in a newsletter from one of the wineries we visited a few years back when we were in this region. It was only on the way there that I pondered “I wonder who else will be going to the long table lunch” – a valid question seems it was on a work day and in the country. It turns out the “who else” seemed to consist of those that owned planes and had flown there or at the very least owned a small country or had a link to royalty. And then there were us! Hubby looking resplendent in his freshly ironed UFC t-shirt with tattoos on full display and I looked like a walking rainbow in my new funky dress my hubby brought back from the US thrown over my somewhat crumply and dirty levis. And there was also the fact that we were the youngest there by about 20 years. To borrow from Kenny Rogers “You could have heard a pin drop…” when we got out of our car and walked up to the verandah where pre lunch drinks were being served.

Now a few months back one of my yoga teachers had given some good advice to use when walking into these very situation, put on your uddiyana bunda (kind of like body locks used to work with harnessing and dissipating energies) and come from there. Would have loved to do that but last Sunday I suffered the mother of all migraines which left me with the sorest spine and no ability to use this aid. So I used another aid to help me through this uncomfortable situation, from a teacher I met quite by chance and on the street. About six months ago I met Jane (not her real name but I haven’t asked her permission to write about her so I don’t feel comfortable using her real name). Jane is homeless and sells the big issue. Jane is also a transexual who is not afraid to make this fact known when you speak to her. She loves nail polish and pretty dresses. I don’t think I have ever had a conversation with her where she hasn’t started with a critic of my outfit. Jane is everything the social world often rejects and disowns and yet there she is living the life she wants with all the dignity and grace of a superstar!

As well as being the external optimist, Jane is also a hugger and really knows how to hug. Now I’m not a hugger, in fact, I’m pretty much a person that is terrified of human contact. I quit studying physiotherapy because I couldn’t stand to put my hands on people. So the first time Jane lays a hug on me, I tentatively hug back with all the enthusiasm of a rag doll. Jane is persistent, week after week, she hugs me until eventually, and without me knowing it, she has worn down my defences, until one morning I am hugging back, no fear of contact with other people. Jane has taught me a lot about living as you are and with dignity and I now hold her in my heart as I approach the silent and judging crowd. I feel myself relax into myself and know that I got this one all squared away inside, so the outsides influence seems to fade away in importance. And then a crazy thing happens, we go and have the most amazing time at the lunch. At the end of the day all of us on our table declare “same time next year with exactly the same people”. Its amazing how well we can all get along when we let fear and judgment drop (and in this instance I guess it was me that mostly needed to drop them :-)). I send a silent thank you to Jane and make a mental note to give her an extra big hug next time we meet.

I used to think that the mind was everything. I was a real big fan of soul too. But lately I have really come to feel the wisdom of the body and its innate phenomenal wisdom. I believe in its way the body guides the mind with the willing assistance of the soul, if you let it. I used to think it was the relaxing of the mind that led to the relaxing of the body but I guess I have been converted through experience to feeling that it is the relaxing of the body that allows the mind to unwind and rest. Focussing on the breath is a good way to see this connection. By slowing and calming the breath, the mind will (eventually) follow. You can tell everything about the state of your wellbeing and mind, through your breath, a bodily function. A bodily function, that without the involvement of the mind, will still occur.

The body’s greatest guide, feelings and emotions, will tell you everything else you need to know with regards to the soul, provided you leave them at the body level. Here I am going out on a limb (hee hee) as I understand that there are many that do not believe that feelings and emotions are of the body. But try this experiment. Next time you are angry or upset, try to pay attention to what is the first thing that registers that emotion. Usually I find the first place I feel anger is in my throat when it constricts to try to stop me from saying what I really want to say or as a burning in my stomach. Later my mind comes to the party and says “Hey I’ve got a burning stomach and a tight throat I must be angry!” And with that judgement of the mind, it spins out of control into justifying and creating reasons why I have a right to feel angry etc etc until I truly believe I am angry. But you aren’t angry (so to speak), you have just thought your way there, in a way you judge yourself and justify your way there. Your body provides you with the bodily clues that something is not sitting quite right with your soul when it comes to balancing the internal world with the external reality. You could leave it at that and observe it and register the feeling/emotion on that level. It is your mind that creates the illusion around the raw feeling/emotion.

But the mind is not without her virtues. The mind is an excellent tool for solving maths problems, for preventing you from putting your hand on a hot stove or wearing a pair of jeans that are clearly to small for you but ask your mind to feel and its like asking a blind person to see. Now I know it’s popular to bag the ego but I consider the ego to be one of the greatest gifts of mind. The ego is kind of like that annoying friend that always tells you the truth and pushes you to grow even when you don’t won’t to. Even when it is spinning off the rails it is telling you the truth, showing you the areas you need to work on and with, to befriend so to speak. Embrace it, love it and learnt from it, it will guide you home. The ego will be the first to take hold of your vision for yourself and help facilitate its creation into being, and in this way it truly earns its best friend title.

Returning to the body, all one has to do to hear her wisdom is to be quiet and still by relaxing, first the body itself and then the mind. I believe yoga is one of the pinnacle practices for teaching this skill. With practice you hear through every part of the body, you feel through all nerve endings the space that is there to be filled. You feel your limits and then you feel these melt away with each breath. The mind can’t help but follow such a beautiful and wise teacher.

Another week, another train incident! This particular morning the train was packed due to there only three carriages on the train instead of the normal six. I was sitting in priority seating because I’m special hee hee – no as there were no other seats and the only other people standing were abled bodied, not pregnant, not too old beings. I had with me more books than a library and about 3 bags so I thought I looked the most needy so I got the seat. Beside me was a lady in her late fifties and I could tell she was going to be a fun travel partner.

We had not gone very far, when she was squirming in her seat and started doing over exaggerated gestures with her hands to indicate she had a bad back in-between bending over her Kindle and reading a few lines. Now my head admittedly was stuck in my philosophy reader for my latest unit and I was having enough trouble struggling to understand Leibniz’s theory of monads without her dramatics. As I read on, I allowed her about 10% of attention to monitor if she was for real or just wanting to get my attention and drag me into whatever drama she was requiring to get through life. It didn’t take long to realise it was the later. I kept reading as she kept bitching on about this and moaning about the state affairs of this and shooting me side way glances. No sorry lady, not going there with you. Then the train filled up to breaking point and she was forced to escalate her moaning to a level perceivable by all, I cursed myself for not putting my iPhone earphones in!

On and on she ranted as we travelled through the suburbs. At all times shooting glances at me and expecting my participation. Now I am not a callous person, but I have become one that likes to focus my energy and time on people that don’t create dramas for the sake of them without any intention of trying to fix the things they are moaning about or without any intention of treating people well. She then proved me to that she was the later person as well. One of the young guys standing next to us, had his iPhone music up really loud and even though he had his ear phones in we could all hear it. Now the music wasn’t overly loud to my hearing and it was rather pleasant and secretly I was pleased to be hearing what the young people 🙂 listen to these days as all I seem to listen to these days is yoga music which is probably why hubby is always saying our home is like living at a yoga retreat!

Anyway, back in the train my travelling buddy in her loudest and most obnoxious tone, prods the youngster in the leg with her finger and asks him to turn it down. Now the young man, took one ear plug out for long enough to say “It is loud isn’t it” and then promptly put the ear plug back in ignoring her request to turn it down. Now at this point I’m not interested in taking sides or saying who was right or wrong, I’ve spent enough time doing that in life and seriously at this level, it can all be a bit of a waste of time. However, my now highly angry and outraged travelling buddy starts screaming at the youngster “You’re such a prick, your nothing but a prick” amongst other nasty, vile obscenities. Seriously all this ugliness over someone not doing what you want. Let it go. Pick up your Kindle and continue reading at all times feeling grateful that you woke up this morning and have an able body to go about your day and enjoy this absolute gift of consciousness – seriously the rest is just matter (hee hee).

So there I am still plugging along reading Leibniz which now has become almost impossible (however i think it might still have been impossible even if I was at home). I am mentally counting down the minutes until I can squeeze myself out of the train and escape this hostile energy. And then she screams out my favourite of her ensemble – “I hate this train, I hate the awful, horrible people you find on it, they make it an unpleasant journey”. I drop my philo book to my lap with the irony of her statement. No where in that statement do I think that she might have considered the possibility that she just made a train journey very unpleasant for a whole carriage full of people purely through her choices of whether to react or not to react to things that did not suit her liking. There are a lot of things in life that probably do not suit her liking, is she going to react that violently against all of them? She is going to be very tired, and very angry if she does.

Then as a parting gesture she treads on my foot as she departs and I truly feel touched by this meeting.

My husband is heavily tattooed. Seriously I hardly notice them any more, which doesn’t say much for my level of awareness, but to me they are just part of his skin, part of him. He just loves tattoos. I believe this love may have started when he was small boy living on a farm in New Zealand and he saw a tattoo on one of the shearers. My dear sweet husband said to the shearer “Wow you must have been really good to get that stamp!” I think the writing was on the wall from there on in!

When he is all dressed up in his computer nerd working clothes (hee hee) you would never even know he had ink. However, when we are say down at the beach there is no doubt. The last time we were down at the beach together I kept wondering why everyone was looking at us, we are no Posh & Becks. As I looked at my husband in all his tattoo glory; his two beautiful colourful arms both sleaved to the elbow, his heavily worked tribal chest and stomach, his proud family Celtic cross the span of his the side of his calf, the dragons on his ankles, the cultural significant hand tapped Borneo eggplant swirls and my favourite, his Japanese hand tapped warrior mythology piece, I started to see that they might be admiring the walking art gallery making his way to the water’s edge.

Not everyone embraces tattoos. I remember the first time I introduced my now husband to my father. Now for many years my father had been a detective and had seen a good many tattoo. To him tattoo had come to mean criminal – he couldn’t help it, the only tattoos he saw were usually on people he was arresting – I guess this faulty association factor was to much to refute in his mind. So in walks hubby glowing tattoos. At this point we had only been going out for around two weeks and my father proceeds to launch into a “what are your intentions with my daughter speech” in the most earnest of voices. I believe it was the tattoos talking!

Then there was the time that I was watching hubby compete in a competition. At some point in the wrestling action hubby’s top came up the people behind me said “Did you see that tattooed freak” or something to those words. At the end of the fight when hubby came to see me and give me a kiss, I chuckled to myself at the squirming people behind me. However, my favourite time was when I was waiting at the front of my house at the bus stop (how convenient for us) and started talking to a guy, that as it turns out, lived a behind us a few house across. We had been talking for a few minutes, I had established that he was, like my father a cop, he was very religious and that he didn’t like the noisy neighbours that lived either side of him. Now he didn’t know I lived in the house in front of the bus stop, that’s too bad for him, as he then started to tell me how he had been looking out his back top floor window of his house the other day(this sounds very Mrs Manglish doesn’t it) and had seen a tattooed, bearded bikie in the back garden of this house. He finished the story off with “Now we don’t want any of those kind of people living here”. Now I am not to switched on at 5.45am in the morning but eventually as I stood there mulling over what he said and feeling quite offended at his statement, it suddenly dawned on me that he was also talking about my husband. Now I am a quiet person but I have always stood up to people that bully or say detrimental things about others. Fuelled by the fact that this might be the only time ever I get to use all my sociology studies in real life, I launched into a sermon that started with “And who would be “those” people that you speak about?”. Needless to say he didn’t sit next to me on the bus when it came. I hoped to never see him again but a few days later he was at the bus stop that I was waiting at. We stood at apart, ignoring each other. Hubby must have been looking through the window and texted me “And then there was an awkward silence…..”

Hubby might be a tattooed freak, but he sure has a sense of humour!

I don’t watch a lot of tv because basically I am never home or when I am I’m doing yoga or studying (yes I know I lead an exciting life!). The other day whilst I was sitting with someone who is basically bed ridden at the moment, I watched some of the tv that they were watching. The experience left me horrified, I literally started to feel knots in my stomach. Not because of the programs but because of the adverts. As we sat there, we were constantly bombarded with ads for prepaying your own funeral, life insurance, income protection insurance, this insurance and that insurance. Enough already. Life is going to happen with or without insurance. You can be insured or prepaid up to your eyeballs but Life is still going to roll on regardless finding one little area you haven’t insured. Now I understand the concept of insurance and I understand that it ensures certain lifestyles blah blah blah after loved ones die etc etc. What I guess sparked my horror was that all these companies are feeding on people’s fear, their insecurities. Isn’t it irresponsible to incite more fear in people – if it isn’t – it should be! I am sure we all realise life is already a beautiful, exhilarating, express roller coaster ride through a tunnel of obscurity that ends in precious slumber – no-one needs to add further adrenaline fuelled double loops.

Maybe it’s more about just showing up and standing by Life, no matter what. I had a guru master (my husband :-)) patiently teach me this one over many years. As far back in our relationship as I can recall, I always remember my husband saying something along the lines of “Life is mostly about showing up, over and over again”. Didn’t get it for a really long time. No indeed, at that point my life was all about running away from everything, myself, my fears tinged with being the best in whatever I did in as an antidote to my fears. No wonder I was so exhausted back then! Over the years of hearing my husband not only say this but live this, it started sinking in.

However, his saying for me was best demonstrated by his fighting. My husband has been involved in martial arts for over 20 years. When I look at this side of his life I see a true artist with his best and most beautiful creation, himself. Yogis and martial artists have a lot in common when it comes to navigating the self and I have nothing but respect for his knowledge that he shares with me (even though sometimes I am not the best listener or unlearner :-)). My husband approaches fighting like he approaches life, he shows up, no matter what. He faces his fear, takes a roll and a tumble, and win, lose or draw accepts the result. And there were long long periods of no winning. I remember these periods because I used to marvel at how he just kept going. Then I started to realise that he did because he loved it, no question of result, he just loved what he was learning (which at that stage was to be the most gracious in defeat :-))and what he was creating. I believe I started to learn this absolute gift by osmosis, by just watching him be. Over the years, I started to hear myself say, “Life is different when you stay in the love of it”. I often wondered where I got it from, then one day as I watched my husband roll in competition, where he looked totally, relaxed and enjoying the process, I suddenly realised that he was fighting with pure heart, just for the love of it, and it left no doubt where I had learnt this newly acquired skill from.

I know life is all about learning but sometimes it all can be a bit too much. Take today. I spent the day with Descartes, in particular, his new theory of ideas and the union of mind and body. Eight hours of that mumbo jumbo and I quite clearly had lost my mind (which actually solved the problem of body mind union quite nicely). In a delusional state of philosophy overload I decided to take my beloved doggie for a walk to try and clear both our minds and rejuvenate both our bodies and souls.

Luckily the cat decided to come with us and when that lady gets something into her mind, nothing has the power to stop her. After several attempts at trying to trick her into the house, I decided that my “crazy eccentric cat lady” image didn’t need any further promoting in our neighbourhood and begrudging let her trail behind us. She thanked me with loud exaggerated meows that were just in the right pitch to potentially shatter my ear drum and to alert everyone to make way for the crazy lady walking her cat.

Nature has a way of levelling things out, making things right according to her own terms. I think some people refer to this as karma. Well we had only set one foot (or paw) in the park around the corner from us, when karma swooped down upon puss, literally. A tornado of little grey birds circled above her head, with the occasional trained kamikaze breaking out of formation to drive bomb her head. In perfect synchronicity, the neighbourhood St Bernard came slumbering around the corner and spied lunch in the form of puss. I love the lady that walks that St Bernard, she is friendly, always picks up the extensive poop that her pouch produces and never fails to keep a watchful eye out for puss if her Bernard is off the lease…….that is until today. All of a sudden I was well aware of a big lumbering ball of fur and drool breaking the sound barrier making its way towards it’s object of it’s desire. For those that think that animals don’t have mind (the capacity of intellect), they should think again. I literally saw puss weigh up her options, slow painful death of being pecked to bits by the grey messengers of god or sure sudden death in the jaws of the slobbering poochie. Puss chose neither, puss chose life instead and literally did a back flip that Nadia Comaneci couldn’t have nailed, whereby shaking the birds and then legged it at a speed I have never seen her move at to the security of a tree. Meanwhile, my beloved dog gave me a look that only could be read as “who’s walk is this anyway?”

Back in the seclusion of my bedroom, once again flicking through the various literature on Descartes take on mind (immaterial) and body (material). I no longer cared if I couldn’t intellectize my way to seeing how the immaterial (mind) could possibly be in union with and interact with the material (body). Didn’t need to, I had just experienced the collusion of the two to produce action that efficiently and affectively secured the wellbeing of puss. The puss that was now settled comfortably beside me licking her paws and acting like nothing had ever happened.