A migrant caravan may be stalled at Tijuana with Donald Trump trying to make political hay.
Israel may continue its righteous response to Palestinian protesters with less-than-lethal weapons (slingshots and pocket knives) with live-round counterstrike.
No-fooling-around starvation mounts in Yemen and displacement in Syria.
The U.S. aids and abets where it can, providing arms to all in need.
Yes, there are links. No, I am disinclined to hook 'em all up.
But then there is the matter of pet psychics.
Realizing she had abruptly developed the ability to communicate with animals, Plotzker expanded her existing psychic business to cater to pets.Compared to the insanities of the world, pet psychics strike me as somehow soothingly sane. If someone loves something or someone, there is a desire to move closer to the beloved. Love is, ipso facto, insane, so by that stringing of thought, pet psychics become calming ... almost ... you might say... sane. Read the article ... now restate your oh-so-kool skepticism.
Fifteen or so years later, business is booming, Plotzker tells me. Dogs and cats make up the bulk of her clientele, but she’s spoken to snakes, horses, wolves and the elephants at Tampa zoo....
She charges $100 for a half-hour session and has no shortage of customers. People seek her help to find lost animals, fix behavioural problems, diagnose illnesses, and communicate with pets who have passed away. (Yes, she also speaks to dead animals.)
I enjoy supporting chosen sanities, however insane they may be. Wait! Did that come out as sane as I'd planned it?
Oh well.
I won't comment on the psychic's abilities, but I can say I understand my pets to a very limited degree. I know that when one of my house cat taps me during the day, she's asking me to open the water tap, because she's thirsty and doesn't like drinking from the bowl. I know when they gather around me towards the end of the day and mess with whatever I'm doing, it's their way to remind me it's dinner time. I know that when my dog wants to play, she'll pick up her favourite ball and drop it close to to me, something she was never trained to do. And I know that she can sense when I'm down, when more than often she challenges me to play. That's love. Bond. Unity. A dual-way sensing and communication.
ReplyDeleteUnlike you, I don't think love is necessarily insane. Instead, I think we often are, making our love - our bonding and relationships - insane, through attachment, physical desire and emotional passion. Love is an unlimited bond, not a tying knot. We make love insane by making constrictive knots along what would better be a clean bond. Hate is one extreme example of that. Hate still needs a bond, someone or something to hate. We deny love - the bond - through indifference, not recognizing or ignoring always existing bonds. I say always existing because I really don't believe otherwise. I may ignore a homeless person, but the person is there and is a part of the society I live in. Ignoring it doesn't make it not being there. Anyway, that's how I see it.
On my last birthday, I got a card from a friend who wrote "may the knots that separate us be less than the rope that binds us." I replied saying "knots don't separate us, they simply measure the length of the rope between us".