Pray for Our Country

June 3, 2020 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

I have never been religious in the “traditional sense.”

As the first boy in my family’s history to be Bar Mitzvah’d, I was honored. I was proud of my heritage but the oft-times dogmatic rituals that go with religion never spoke to me. For decades, I hovered between agnostic and atheist; my questioning, skeptical nature disallowing me from accepting that which I could not prove.

As the years faded, I evolved a spiritual philosophy that reverberated with that probing, doubtful me: Simply put, I believe there is an all-patient, non-judging, immensely intelligent, creative-in-the-extreme Higher Power. Call It “God,” “Spirit,” “Universe,” “Ghia,” or whatever you prefer; it is too vast for a name to define it anyway.

Yet, as opposed to the belief that he/she/it sits on high and determines or guides our lives, I believe that said “higher power” is actually the combined energy of all there is; whether that be an animal, plant, mineral, quark, atom, or supernova. Since we are all birthed of It, It is us and we access It whenever we choose. Actually, we are always in touch with It, even when we’re not trying to be. Like fertile soil, all we need do is plant our thoughts into It and It responds in the same fashion as a seed will grow when placed in dirt. It does not need to be coaxed nor asked; it just happens.

I am not so arrogant as to know that this is the ultimate truth but it works for me.

I also am aware that others might have differing views, and that too is fine with me. You do you. I’ll do me. Providing neither of us attempts to override the other, we’ll get along fine. I imagine that no matter what your beliefs, you agree with that.

I put all this out there because when I use the concept of “pray,” I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to do something foreign to your beliefs, such as go to Church or Temple or to repeat psalms or chapters if that’s not what you do. Should that be of solace to you, that’s wonderful. If, however, you’re more like me, please don’t let the use of the word prevent you from hearing the more important message.

Disclaimers completed, please, in whatever fashion you do so, and to whatever God or Higher Power you believe, pray for our country.

Pray that people of goodwill will be heard over the cacophony of hate and violence.

[Read more…]

Life Lessons from a Sick/Healthy Cat

April 29, 2020 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

Even though we live with three cats and a dog, my wife and I don’t refer not to ourselves as “pet owners,” opting rather for the moniker, “pet guardians.”

You are now thinking either:

“Meh, so what?” yet, continuing to read
“Oh, you’re one of those type of people,” possibly even falsely labeling me as “wacko animal rights activist.”
“Right on! I so agree with you. I wish more people felt that way.”
“This is nonsense,” deciding you have something better to do with your time and returning to your quarantined life.

I judge not your response.

What’s the difference between “pet owner” and “pet guardian”?

Well, um, honestly, probably not much beyond semantics. Countless millions of people share living quarters with animals while considering themselves good “pet owners.” Assuming they love, nurture, and take care of their furry, feathered, or reptilian family members; they’re correct.

Speaking on behalf of those of us who opt for the term “guardian,” the difference is that I don’t believe I “own” the animals. I mean, sure, legally, I’m responsible and all; but believe each soul exists to pursue its own path. As guardian to Tiger, Oreo, Hobbs, and Willie, my responsibility is to help clear their paths to allow them the fullest, happiest, healthiest four-legged existence possible. (Go ahead, cue the “woo-woo,” artsy-fartsy, new age, hippie music; I’m used to it.)

The manner in which this choice of terms manifests itself with us is that there are cat and dog toys strewn everywhere. A giant dog bed occupies our living room floor with countless lesser versions scattered elsewhere. For the feline contingent, there are perches, walkways, all manner of hanging things, and even a “catio” attached to our back door (so they can go outside but not run the risk of being hit by cars).

As stated, we are animal guardians.

Starting late last year, Tiger, our eldest, has been suffering from all manner of severe health conditions with symptoms pin-balling from lethargy to vomiting to constipation; dropping from a robust 12 pounds down to seven. In February, we were discussing end-of-life options, actually assuming a date. Whether “owner” or “guardian,” or neither, I’m sure you empathize with this gut-wrenching, emotional, devastating period.

Yet, in what I can only describe as a miracle, our 15-year-old Tiger rebounded.

As if treated by magic wand, he woke up and started eating, and eating, and eating, and eating. His fur regained its smooth texture; his eyes cleared; he even reverted to kitten-like behaviors. He filled out so much, we referred to him as “Buddha belly.” Give praise! Sing hallelujah! Life is good.

Last weekend, noticing some fur was missing, we returned to the vet.

[Read more…]

One of These Days, When This All Passes…

April 8, 2020 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

One of these days, morning will dawn on a world where this will have all passed.

One of these days, we will return to lives, no longer sheltering-in-place nor wearing protective gear and masks to leave our houses. One of these days we will again put on make-up, style our hair, dress up, and go out for a night at the theater, soaking in all the glorious laughter and chatter of being in a room full of people, no longer fearful of what might be transmitted. One day again, we will celebrate a special occasion at an upscale restaurant, surrounded a bit too closely by other diners – but we won’t mind. One of these days we will host dinner parties and wrap our arms around and hold tight each and every person who enters our house.

One of these days, we will look back with a mixture of sorrow and relief and anger and fear at this entire horrific, upending, devastating period.

Alas, that day is not yet.

It won’t be as far from now as we fear, nor will it be as soon as we would prefer.

But it is coming; as surely as the sun will rise and the winds will blow and the stars will shine; it is approaching. Paraphrasing T.S. Elliot, that instant will land not with a bang, but with a whimper; subtlety, slowly, surreptitiously making known its presence. In the same manner one cannot actually watch a flower open but can recognize its beauty when it blooms, that time is blossoming even now.

And when it does, what will you do to commemorate its arrival?

I will re-experience joy in the small things. No more will I socially distance myself nor self-isolate, instead smiling broadly when someone — anyone — passes me on the sidewalk. No longer having to swab everything with sani-wipes, I will plop down my butt on any park bench I damn well want or hang from its jungle gym, free of trepidation of what I might catch. I will relish the background noise and chatter of a crowded mall. I’ll stand nearer than six feet when in line at the grocery store and won’t be afraid to handle cash when I pay. [Read more…]

« Previous Page