My cat looks at a dried leaf which lies close to where I am sitting. She seems to be staring at it intently. To stir things up, I blow at it. It moves. She gets excited, seeing no apparent reason for the leaf to quiver as it did. I see the leaf move. I have my theory as to why it moved. I assume that Lucy, my cat, has a different reason because she did not look up at me as I blew on the leaf.
What's her theory?
What's mine?
Are we in a world in which what I think matters more than what she thinks?
Does she care?
She is lying, stretched out, asleep in the sun, two minute after seeing the leaf move. She does not appear troubled.
I'm still tapping away on the keyboard.
It all reminds me of the story of the Buddhist sage who is walking through the jungle with other monks and they come to a river. They want to cross. A young woman, waiting to cross, asks them for help. The sage carries her over on his back. She alights and disappears, thanking him.
The group walks on for some time.
The monks are disconcerted.
They ask their leader, " Why did you touch this woman in such an intimate manner?"
He responds, " I put her down long ago. Why do you still carry her?"

Lucy has put the moving leaf behind her.


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