my cat 'Lucky'/My monkey "bad karma"

[Guest guest]

Thank you for sharing your vitality and creativity and the many riches of

your gifts of poetry with us Mazie. I always enjoy reading the stories of

your childhood and this one about the cat named Lucky was wonderful and very

touching. Lucky was lucky to have you as a friend. I hope we get to meet you

and your beloved Robert some day.

 

The story of your cat Lucky reminded me of my monkey story. My monkey has no

name however. He was not my monkey even. He belonged to a man who used to

take his many monkeys around and do tricks in the neighborhood. People and

children used to gather around and watch and then pay him coins and money.

 

It is a short story. This is what happened.

 

We were living in India and I was around 5 years old or so. This man brought

his monkeys around to do a show in our neighborhood. We gathered around. My

brother who is a year younger was with me. It all happened in front of our

house. We joined the crowd to watch. The monkeys were dressed in villager

clothes and were dancing and doing what the monkey owner wanted them to do.

It was all entertainment.

 

All of a sudden, I felt a strong negative vibration. I saw that one of the

monkeys was giving me a dirty look and felt he was going to attack me. I

felt this in a tangible psychic way, although there seemed to be no reason

for this as the monkey owner had the monkeys on leash and seemed to be

firmly in control of the monkeys.

 

Within a minute, the monkey who had given me a dirty look, started to dance

as commanded by his master. He was dancing in a circle around the crowd. As

soon as he reached near me, he broke the leash and attacked me viciously as

if I was an enemy from a past life. I shrieked in horror and screamed

wildly. The monkey clawed me and showed me his teeth. The monkey was not

happy with me. The monkey owner was shocked and got the monkey off me. He

said that this had never happened before. My mother came running. My brother

was laughing so hard he could not stop.

 

Well, I still remember that monkey. I think of him as my monkey. I had bad

karma with him that had to be worked out and I am glad we did. I hope the

monkey got his satisfaction.

 

At Sri RamanaAshram, there were many monkeys and Bhagavan used to feed them

and was their friend. Not everyone liked monkeys and I have heard that

occasionally Bhagavan's devotees would chase the monkeys away instead of

giving them food. Sri Ramana felt that monkeys should be treated with

respect as they were at the Ashram before people got there.

 

Anyway, the moral of the story perhaps is, "Be nice to everyone, (even

monkeys) and give them the respect due".

 

Love to all

Harsha

 

 

 

Mazie Lane [sraddha54]

Sunday, May 05, 2002 11:42 AM

my cat 'Lucky'

 

Dear Friends,

 

Sometimes a pear, or a particular kind of cat will awaken a memory of a time

when i was so the epitome of Innocence about Life and Death and Love and

Beloved, and, well, EVERYTHING. For example, this tale:

 

At ten years old i was sent to stay the summer with my Aunt Lila (how

apropos a name!) in Marysville and later Live Oak. The reason being that i

had somehow drawn that long straw, or is it the short straw, well anyway,

some stick of destiny had been clasped in these tiny tender child-hands, and

i knew i had an engagement with God in His Office of Life. i was diagnosed

with JRA. Say what, God!? So Saying, He meant what He said, and it said -

"You better buckle-up for this ONE, Baby!"

 

So to prevent my playing like the Fun-Loving fool that i was, i was sent to

stay in my Aunt's home for the summer, no children, no games, no

stimulation, no form of finding freedom as a kid in any way. Or so they

thought, Ha! Mazie had her every means and ways of finding that Center Core

of Brightness, even then, oh God of Love, especially then!

 

The high shrubbery became the deepest, darkest steaming jungles of Africa.

And now, knowing what i know of my lifetime in Africa the last time out, i

am not surprised at my choice of locations for this mad adventure of One

being many. The Mimosa tree was never more exotic than when i would climb it

and search the horizon for my Beloved One, for Yes, yes, even then i was

using or being used by this Heart to send a beacon call to my Beloved One,

saying, "HEY! Over Here Beautiful! i'm living in an African-California

jungle and i am awaiting Your entrance into my Heart once again!" The dolls

that were kept in plastic wrap and high up on shelves of memories of when

Auntie's children were little lovers, they found their way into my world

too. They became my congregation, listening to long-winded sermons about

turtles and silver rings and stories about Daisies who would claim all

Hearts again, Oh! did i ever have a song and dance down. Little Richard,

James Brown, they had NOTHING on me and my sparkling, spinning, lightening

little hooves a having a harvestball all along that yard's length. A

Cotillion of One!

 

So i spent my summer going to a tiny library that was but a tiny room or

two, but i knew that God had stuffed that little Mind-Shrine Repository with

just the right books to convey the Immensity of His His-ness at that

juncture in my little ten year old Heart and Life. i found a book about

reincarnation, i grabbed "The Brothers Karamazov," and i sent my sails

skyward higher then, the "Mahabharata" just rippled my Mind into endlessness

of Bliss long-remembered from some ancient white temple where i and my

Beloved One had Mated and Communed as One Heart, and oh the stories about

Curious George all intertwined with Drona's Eyes Seeing, with Krishna

reappearing nightly lifting away every thought of pain held by the

child-mind, that Ancient and Unfathomable Mind held in a child and with a

Heart That had held SuchSuchnessSoClosely. Myriad of worlds were opened up,

no bound being in Live Oak or Oroville, nothing held the pilgrim in that

tiny prison of pain unending, for there was that, THAT which was the Real

world, the real side of Seeing.

 

So on and on this summer goes, and here's the human side of the Heart of a

child being tested-tasted by Love, by God, by that Indefatigable Beloved

One, it's this:

 

i had been given my very own cat, a kitten chosen by my Love and by my

desire to adore and cherish something, someONE as my own, my own Beloved,

and this form appeared as this little kitten of black and white. i named him

"Lucky." Oh just so lucky lucky lucky in Love to have a cat who loved me! i

dressed him up in sweet doll clothes, for he was my baby darling adorable

one. i saved all the best tidbits of ham or sweet roll or the cream off the

milk we got in bottles, and i would serve my Darling Kittyness of God each

day. We were inseparable, as in, "Oh there's Lucky, and OH! there's Mazie,

so where to find Mazie for supper? Find that Lucky cat a lagging along after

that child."

It was a test of every fiber of my Heart-strength to have to go away for

that summer and leave him behind. i begged my Daddy, (for that's what i

called my sweet papa) to allow me to take him with me, but alas, my Auntie

could not be around cats for the reason of an allergy, (OR SO THEY TOLD ME!)

Lucky was left in the care of my family, and i was assured that when i

returned we could take up where we left off in our communal gladness as

kidness loving catness and right on around the circle. So this is the thing

that happened. Ahhh! Life is a Kissing Fool! And i was all open-mouthed

Innocence and bravery and acceptance and insanity at everything ever after

about Life and it all. So, this:

 

i remember it as clearly as this Moment before me Now, i was standing in the

back African jungle, beneath a gigantic blue-mauve Hydrangea bush, and it

towered over me, and Daddy towered above me like a giant obelisk blocking

out the sun. and the giant blockage was trying to say something to me but i

could not quite make out and understand anything It was mouthing out at me.

 

i had a Bartlett pear in my hands, half-eaten, the sweet and sticky juices

still clinging to my lips and dripping down my angelic face, for it was an

angelic face! Beloved God had it in mind to try to make a wicked wild wonder

of the future look like a cherubic angelic ray of Light as a child who would

tread upon every sacred valley and every high and lofty mountain path to

find her Beloved One. And this Father is saying this, for i can finally

understand the words the sentence of utter despair and heartbreak. He said

so clearly now, and so filled with caring and Love, -

 

"Baby Sunshine, your cat got kilt yesterday. Lucky was taken after playing

in the road with another kitty."

 

And then the Darkness. The Horror, the Despair, the Utter Agony of all that

could ever be imagined as Horror and Pain in a young heart who trusted in

that name, "LUCKY!" i dropped the pear mid-bite, i dropped to the earth and

fainted full away in this revelation that i could not, could not contain in

my tiny Heart-bud vase of Love. For He had just proclaimed that my Beloved,

my best chum and friend had been snatched into Oblivion, and without so much

as a good-by Meow. i resented everyone, everything, and especially my mother

and father for making me leave my home to stay "inactive." i made a cruel

and spiteful vow in that instant to play so hard, to run so far, to leap and

dance and flip about til my entire body and bones just crumbled into dust

that screamed in pain. i did not care about anything except Lucky and his

sweet memory being held high by my actions of getting even for this, for

this unbelievable Horror of Death and all it filed my heart with. i knew

that there was no death, knew what dying meant, and yet, i did not give a

flip about that, i was grief-stricken and betrayed and bereft and no one, no

one could help me in this Absolute Aloneness.

i learned much at that ten year old mind-crushing thing. Oh so, a cat died

one might say, so what, they do it all the time, and people die and there's

a maybe mind-split, but this, THIS cat was the Beloved filling in for my

Beautiful Beloved One, and he had just been squashed into a furry platter of

frisbeeness.

So later i'll tell about my adventure in nearly resurrecting him by digging

up his (most likely) rotting little corpse to hold and to say "i'm so sorry

i left you and forgive me and please come back to life,"but that is another

story all together my beloveds.

 

Love,

Mazie