On Fate, The Acceptance Thereof (or did I mean Faith?)

It's odd, the things that compel me to write again so soon.


1. An email I just read from a friend.


2. A disquieting (yes perhaps paranoid of me, but warranted) notion that I shall never again see one of the resident cats here at the condo where I live. Pusa may have met a horrible end tonight. =(


Both have to do with fate.  Either you accept things as they are or make it harder for yourself.


Not that the email had anything to do with MY fate per se, but my friend had mentioned accepting it and having to just accept things and deal with things as they come.


The thing about being human, I suppose is that, for all the complexity and drama, not to mention intelligence that we are awarded (some more than others, some less - yes, i just HAD to say that) - We are driven by the same basic things ego tells us to fear, love, hate, etc.  
Yes, we are sentient beings, we think (maybe sometimes a bit too much?) but we also more often feel.   Anger, pity, love, scorn, passion, compassion.  Our egos have become so powerful that it seems like we've developed a co-dependent relationship with - The ME that we'd like to think we are and the me that we want everyone else to see.


Is there a difference, you may ask?


My answer - a shrug and a non-committal - most likely.


I'd like to think that there is more to life than just the usual rat-race and that it IS possible to just BE.  But what of those who have mouths to feed? Children to send to school? Medication to purchase? Those who have jobs but don't make enough to pay for fare to get to work or gas up their cars?  What of those who stand up for their rights and are denied justice, are detained or become part of those who are accosted by the authorities and just "disappear"?  What of the many stray animals who wander the streets of the city - looking for scraps of food, given or stolen, who, if unluckily enough end up as roadkill or pulutan (the term for appetizers or food for those who drink alcoholic beverages) or, considered "vermin" and are summarily executed?  


1. The email - Much as I miss (and have taken for granted) the art of letter-writing, I confess I enjoy the ease afforded by correspondence via e-mail.  It's easy, fast and instant.  Communications made, ties mended or broken all without having to head to the post office to purchase a stamp and mail someone a letter.  For this, all one needs is an active account and a functional internet connection. (obviously also a computer even at an internet cafe - in which to access this account, for those who don't have computers at home)
I am confident though, that actual handwritten and posted, hand delivered missives will still be sent and received for as long as there are those who still send cards, postcards and actual letters. Hey! Not EVERYONE has an email account or knows how to use the internet yet.
In 2011, I hope to send those important to me an actual (read: handwritten) letter.  It should be a nice break from the usual bills or disconnection notices. ;-) haha.

2.  The cat, Pusa.  In late 2009, an orange stray cat has started sitting with me out on the Fire Escape.  In an effort not to become attached to it, i refused to name it and just called it "Pusa". 
In hindsight, this effort seems to be in vain as I have been accused by my mother of spoiling it - taking out bits of left-overs and sometimes setting aside portions of food just to have something to give it.  In the last few weeks, Pusa has been coming up together with a grey and white kitten - whom I also refuse to get too attached to, so I started calling it HeyYou.
At approximately half-past ten in the evening of February 3, I was sitting out on the Fire Escape.  Some ten or so minutes later, I hear a muffled cry from somewhere downstairs which - disturbingly enough, seemed like a cat who was just struck.  But not for so long as for me to be sure that any actual violence had occurred.  My heart stopped for a beat.  I had seen Pusa and HeyYou just minutes before that and now they are both strangely absent from the fire escape.  I linger a bit longer as my coffee started to grow cold.  Some five minutes later, HeyYou comes skittering up the stairs.  I feed it left-over hamburger.  No sign of Pusa.

My anxiety grows, but I am refusing to fuel my worst fears.  Over and over again, reminding myself of the philosophers who say there can be no proof that one cause is the effect of something that has occurred. Was it Hume who, speaking of Causality who said - we could NOT perceive cause and effect.  If I will lull myself into a form of complacency for this evening, then I'm willing to buy this theory.  My peace of mind depends on it.


Note: This condo has (for me) a history of not abiding by the Humane Treatment of animals, I've actually called in police to investigate the killing of a dog here sometime in 2010.  I'm surprised they've let Pusa loiter around the premises for as long as they have. Sigh.


Must I just resign myself to thinking that Pusa just went "on vacation" in case I never see him again?  Is that the fate of the cat i'm preparing in my head despite all the sordid scenarios I might have concocted in my head?


Is it my fate to just pop an anti-anxiety pill when I feel my nerves getting the better of me or take a pill to get to sleep or choose to tire myself so I don't stay up all night?  


I start to pray silently to whatever Greater Being is out there. Let the cat be okay.  Let the people who have battles to wage be strong.  Let those who  know better, do better, be better.


It is a relatively uneventful day as yet.  But I am filled with a strange sense of dread just the same.   


I often say - The Universe Has A Plan! Well, I sure hope there's more than one.


There HAS to be.