Hinduism is an eternal dance between the sacred and the everyday, a quest for meaning where every gesture can become an offering. In this dance, Cassie, my tortoiseshell cat, is my most faithful partner. Together, we explore the depths of Hindu concepts, turning every moment into a life lesson.
The Dharma According to Cassie
Cassie, with her unchanging routine of sunbathing and night watches, reminds me that dharma is not a constraint, but a natural dance with the order of the world. She doesn't need sacred books to know when to meditate (when she snuggles against me in the early morning) or when to celebrate life (when she pounces on a dead leaf). Her very existence is a sermon on harmony.
Every morning, Cassie perches on the windowsill, watching the world with an attention that even the greatest sages might envy. She doesn't rush, doesn't worry about the future. She lives her dharma, instinctively, like a melody she knows by heart. For me, her dharma is to teach me patience, to remind me that every moment is precious.
Karma and Scratches
One day, I saw Cassie playing with a spider, then releasing it near the plane tree. This simple gesture made me meditate on karma: every life, no matter how small, deserves respect. And if the liberation of the spider was also a liberation for me—from my judgments, from my haste?
Cassie has also taught me that karma is not a punishment, but a lesson. When she catches a fly and lets it go, I see a manifestation of ahimsa, non-violence. She has shown me that every action, no matter how small, counts. Every gesture of kindness, every moment of compassion, is a seed planted for the future.
Moksha on the Balcony
Sometimes I wonder if Cassie is not an old soul, returned to teach me lightness. Her gaze, when she fixes Sirius from the balcony, seems to carry memories of other skies, other lives. Hinduism speaks of the eternal soul; Cassie, she proves it to me every night, when her paw brushes my face like a blessing from afar.
During Maha Shivaratri, Cassie and I stay awake until dawn. I place flowers in front of the statue of Shiva, and she, like a miniature priestess, sniffs the petals before lying down on them. The moon, that night, seems closer—as if Shiva, Parvati, and Ganesh are watching us, amused by our improvised devotion. Cassie lifts her head towards it, and I tell myself that spirituality is also this: a cat, a moon, and eternity in an instant.
Mantras and Purrs
When Cassie places her paw on my knee while I recite 'Om Namah Shivaya', I feel her purring vibrate in echo to the mantra, as if Shiva himself is murmuring through her. The plane tree outside rustles in the wind, and suddenly, the boundary between the sacred and the ordinary fades. We are no longer two, but one breath in the immensity.
The Upanishads speak of Tat Tvam Asi—'You are That'. When Cassie curls up against my belly, I understand: the divine is not 'out there', but here, in her warm fur, in the silence between two breaths.
Krishna says to Arjuna: 'Act without attaching yourself to the fruits of your action.' Cassie, she catches butterflies without ever keeping them. She shows me, every day, that true yoga is in selfless action—whether to play, hunt, or simply purr against my leg.
Conclusion: An Invitation to Live Your Own Sadhana
And you, what is your Cassie? What being, human or animal, guides you towards the sacred without even knowing it? Maybe it's a tree, a dog, or simply the wind turning the pages of your sacred books. Hinduism teaches us that the divine hides in the details. It's up to us to see them—and to dance with them.
Shanti Om.
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