Tag Archives: Meditation Cat


I’ve been working on some thoughts on the difference between wanting and needing and what is worth waiting for and what isn’t. And grilled cheese sandwiches.

Just as it takes time to grill your sandwich to golden perfection, it takes time for thoughts to mature.

Here’s a taste–of the thoughts, not the sandwiches.

Foresight is considering things that could happen. Hindsight is getting perspective on things that did or didn’t happen. Insight is coping with what is happening now with a degree of grace and dignity.

Outtasight is where things that never should have happened belong, like Euro Disney and Justin Bieber and pumpkin pudding flavored KitKats.


Meditation Cat (that’s ‘cat’ with a ‘c’, not a ‘k’) says:


No. Just…no. I have spoken.

Meditation Cat Says….

Meditation is turning up some very interesting sensations: movement in the mind although the body is stationary, warmth, lightness, realization. I didn’t feel like it this morning but did it anyway. I’m glad I did.

If only the dickhead down the street with the jackhammer would knock it off.

Meditation Cat says…


Stay on the path.
Don’t worry about where it leads.

The journey is the only destination.

Om Feeling Better


This morning was day 45 of my meditation journey. I sit on a cushion in front of a window and look at Meditation Cat until my eyes close and I sink into myself seeking calm and space and rest.

I was lost at first, but now I want to do the practices, even need to. I’ve never been a morning person, but find myself waking up extra early on work days so I can practice before I leave. I’m becoming greedy for that feeling of peace. When I can’t find it, I feel sad, frustrated. For the rest of the day, it feels like my socks are inside out and my ponytail is too tight.

But then there are brief moments when nirvana opens its limpid eyes and glances at my soul. Those are moments of pure bliss, of lightness and freedom and I want to laugh out loud. On the flip side, those moments are sometimes followed by equally brief but equally powerful bursts of pure emotion, often grief, and I want to sob.

Grief, regret, sadness, pain: none of these feelings do my spirit or the world any good. While I cannot deny their substance and reality, I can refuse to let them control me. I’m learning to embrace those feelings, acknowledge their existence, give them a hug and a scratch behind the ears, and then let them go, pushing them gently out into the universe where they can burst apart like sparkling fireworks and return their energy to the universal all. Perhaps in time that energy can learn to look for more positive directions.

For the longest time, I thought only truly stupid people could be truly happy, but I think there’s more–and less–to it than that.

I am unlikely to ever go vegan or worship crystals or wear clothing made of hemp, but have decided to heed the wise words of Meditation Cat:

We are only as miserable as we allow ourselves to be.

Meditation Cat Says…


...if you can push your ego aside,
you can open your heart and mind
to what others are saying or feeling
without filtering or judgement,
appreciate them for what they are…

and then decide to ignore them.


Hi! I’m Booty Cat.
Meditation Cat isĀ in a pissy mood thinking lofty thoughts
so I get to do a guest appearance.

I don’t meditate.
I don’t think lofty thoughts.
I just hang onto the edge of this boot being adorable.
I’m pretty good at it, don’t you think?

Meditation Cat Says…

…there have been a few rumors about the sudden and unexplained absence of the Mouse.

mouse 2

One has the Mouse with her tail stuck in a revolving door at the Mitsukoshi department store in Ginza where she has been going round and round for several weeks.

This is untrue. Mice never use revolving doors, and Mitsukoshi doesn’t have them anyway. Plus the Mouse does not go to Ginza and the Mouse does not shop at Mitsukoshi. If the Mouse wants gold plated toothpicks, she’ll make them herself.


Nor is it true that the Mouse has taken up residence in Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyland. She would never take a chance on being spotted with the Other Mouse, who is a rather silly fellow and something of a merchandising slut. Plus that voice? It works for Frankie Valli; inappropriate for a self-respecting mouse.

The Mouse will admit, however, that a visit to Disneyland on a rainy Thursday afternoon in February, although damp and chilly, is a wonderful experience. It really is a magical kingdom when there’s nobody there and she does have a weakness for It’s A Small World.

mouse 3

Yet another patently untrue rumor is that she has found a secret entrance to the Tokyu Food Show and sneaks in at night to nibble on the imported French cheeses, leaving behind toothmarks and toe prints.

We officially disavow any knowledge of those responsible for such uncouth behavior. The Mouse uses a china plate and a silver knife. Her cheese is accompanied by crisp baguette, although depending on the exchange rate, those elegant trappings are often replaced with Velveeta and saltines.

The truth is that the Mouse found herself a little overwhelmed. The sights, sounds and smells of Bali were everything that she had hoped for, but she was unprepared for how those experiences would change her perspective on life in Tokyo, and still hasn’t figured how or how much any of that matters.


So please allow me to introduce myself. I am Meditation Cat. I am a conduit between the missing Mouse and anyone who is seeking her. I am wise. I am handsome. I am available for consultation on matters grave or trivial but reserve the right to give cryptic advice or none at all. All compliments will be gracefully accepted; all criticism will be wholly ignored.


What beef?

It was another beautiful, breezy spring day today so Kelly and I did yoga in the park. At the end of the practice, she commented on how much I’ve improved in the past few months. (Cue Meditation Cat purr.)

Some of my Bali buddies had said that I was “shredding” the yoga. Apparently this is contemporary slang for doing something well. I said as much to Kelly and got a blank stare. She’s been living abroad for the past three years and knows as much about American pop culture as I do.

where's the beef“Yeah,” I said. “I also missed the whole ‘Where’s the beef?’ thing.”

Another blank stare.

“Oh! That’s right. It was 1984. You must have missed that, too.”

She was born in 1990.