Cats and Sabbath

While catching up on Tandaina's blog today, I found this delightful and oh-so-true observation:

Rest. Sabbath. We talk about it, we read about it, we rarely do it. And here I have to admire cats, yes cats. . . .

Today I laid down on the couch with the intention of getting some progress through a very good, and quite dense, book on contemplation. It was good spiritual work I've been neglecting. It was also, apparently, not to be. Immediately both cats took up residence, one stretched out along my legs, the [other] curled up on my shoulder and chest.

Have you ever laid beneath two sleeping cats and tried to stay awake. You will fail my friend. The cat understands rest like no other creature on Earth. A cat sleeps with an expression of pure serene bliss on their face, bodies curled or stretched in posses of utter contentment.

Cat's understand Sabbath. Rest as a holy thing, rest as a required thing. A cat does not sleep merely because he has exhausted himself and can do nothing else. That is left for men and dogs. A cat sleeps before he needs to, he reclines in the sun long before he has worn out his energy. He lays still, warming himself and blinking with contentment. There is no need to be busy and moving.

So I slept, for how long I do not know. But I woke feeling calm and relaxed, and looking at those still sleeping bodies curled up with me I felt absolutely no guilt for what I could have accomplished. Perhaps we should all take spiritual direction from a cat.

I didn't nap today. Nor did I try to read any deep spiritual tome. But it certainly did strike me that my cats feel absolutely no compunction about napping. They have escaped the Protestant work ethic. Lucky them!