Verse 22
My cat sat inside the chalk circle, so apparently the summoning succeeded.
My cat sat inside the chalk circle, so apparently the summoning succeeded.
I asked her what Saturn meant. She washed one shoulder for several minutes.
This was already clearer than my horoscope.
On the second question she knocked the lead talisman under the sofa.
I took this to mean that material attachments should be released.
She later retrieved the talisman and slept on it.
I revised the doctrine.
The cat teaches nonattachment selectively and mostly concerning objects owned by other people.
When I fasted for wisdom, she screamed until I opened a tin.
Thus I learned that asceticism has stakeholders.
At midnight she stared at an empty corner. I refused to ask.
People say cats see spirits. Mine mostly sees opportunities.
Still, she knows the art Saturn tries to teach: wait without looking bored.
She can watch a closed door for an hour and remain morally superior to it.
When the door opens, she may decline to pass through.
This is liberation from outcome.
Or stupidity. The schools disagree.
I wrote her revelation on expensive paper. She slept on that too.