As I drove to Anglesey yesterday I saw a black and white cat lying dead by the side of the country road. Being the owner of two cats, and an animal lover, this made me sad for a moment, but I sent it a little blessing and carried on my journey. Returning several hours later, the poor cat was still there, and I felt a wave of pity for the forelorn animal and for its owner too. The memory and image stayed with me, until I reminded myself that my experience was in the past now and that the cat lived on elsewhere.
Furthermore, I wondered if, possibly, what I saw had never happened in the first place? Could it be that whatever happens in the moment is just that, and when it is done, experienced, it goes into nothingness? Is what I see exclusive to me, part of "my play"? Does anything exist except what is in our present? If so, it validates my long-held belief that the past (and future) does not matter except inasmuch as it is a learning tool for our human journey, and it makes it much easier deal with emotions such as grief, self-pity and anger.
Whether the cat was ever there or not does not matter, but I thank it for presenting itself to me as it did, and for giving me much to ponder on.