Sir:
I write to you from a place of concern. I notice that the events of the past few weeks—events that have affected your life a great deal—have left you, as they say, frayed. There is a furtiveness to your movements, and a general agitation in your demeanor.
To come right to the point, sir: you seem a bit, shall we say, stressed.
I myself, particularly during my tender years, knew this feeling quite well. Back in those dark days, the uncertainty of even the immediate future was a cause of anxiety. Lacking a home, I never knew where I would sleep, and, of course, never knew what my next meal would be, nor did I know when I would eat it.
Now however, since you have reinstated me to the position to which I properly belong—complete with dominion over the empire that I rule with a just and loving hand—I seek to reciprocate the administration of the grace and calm you have brought to my life. I add that besides giving me that grace and calm, you have, through your generosity and care, set in motion an upward spiral, if you will. In other words, the grace and calm you have brought me has helped me find ways to bring grace and calm to myself.
With that said, I offer the following suggestion in the hope that you, too, can cultivate this method of offering grace and calm to yourself when it seems as if such a thing, in the world, is in short supply:
Sir…you need to take more naps.
Please understand that when I say “you need more naps,” it is not to be confused with the grim practice of simply spending the day in a dwelling, cocooned in bed, sleeping hour after hour. No…this, instead, simply means that between periods of time in which you are active and constructive, you then accept that after such a period, it may be best to simply stop being active and constructive. It may be necessary to, as we say, recharge the batteries, and there is no better way to recharge those batteries than to embrace the relaxation that comes with lying down, shutting one’s eyes, and perhaps listening to the so-called “Ambient Music” of Brian Eno.
I actually go further here, and say that in between your productive periods, you take notice of the assorted actions I take so as to achieve a state of, shall we say, Zen. Stare out a window. Watch the world go by, and listen to the sounds it makes when it does so.
I, in fact, venture to say that these so-called “down times” are, at times, deeply active, in that they free the mind to explore paths to that very grace and calm that you may be pursuing. I further argue that, in being so, they may, during the periods in which you engage in them, be the most constructive action open to you at that given moment.
In no way do I wish to state that you should do this all the time. I simply say that, when doing what you do, it is necessary to stop doing that thing, and do what many wrongly call Doing Nothing. To my way of thinking, there are times that this action is actually more of a Something than any other actions open to you.
I shall, of course, always be on hand to assist you in this suggested action whenever you may need help. When you lie down, I shall be on hand to position myself by your head. There, through steady purring, I shall provide what I believe is helpful auditory accompaniment which supplements the aforementioned “Ambient Music,” accompaniment to what, for me, has become not a mere “resting of the batteries,” but a transcendent period of illumination.
In conclusion: life is a long and difficult process. It requires awareness, and work. At the same time, though, it requires periods of rest.
With that said, I am here, just to the right of your pillow. Lie down. Now scratch my head, just behind the ears.
Perfect.
Thank you, sir.
Fondly,
Hugo
Emperor
Apartment D1
I write to you from a place of concern. I notice that the events of the past few weeks—events that have affected your life a great deal—have left you, as they say, frayed. There is a furtiveness to your movements, and a general agitation in your demeanor.
To come right to the point, sir: you seem a bit, shall we say, stressed.
I myself, particularly during my tender years, knew this feeling quite well. Back in those dark days, the uncertainty of even the immediate future was a cause of anxiety. Lacking a home, I never knew where I would sleep, and, of course, never knew what my next meal would be, nor did I know when I would eat it.
Now however, since you have reinstated me to the position to which I properly belong—complete with dominion over the empire that I rule with a just and loving hand—I seek to reciprocate the administration of the grace and calm you have brought to my life. I add that besides giving me that grace and calm, you have, through your generosity and care, set in motion an upward spiral, if you will. In other words, the grace and calm you have brought me has helped me find ways to bring grace and calm to myself.
With that said, I offer the following suggestion in the hope that you, too, can cultivate this method of offering grace and calm to yourself when it seems as if such a thing, in the world, is in short supply:
Sir…you need to take more naps.
Please understand that when I say “you need more naps,” it is not to be confused with the grim practice of simply spending the day in a dwelling, cocooned in bed, sleeping hour after hour. No…this, instead, simply means that between periods of time in which you are active and constructive, you then accept that after such a period, it may be best to simply stop being active and constructive. It may be necessary to, as we say, recharge the batteries, and there is no better way to recharge those batteries than to embrace the relaxation that comes with lying down, shutting one’s eyes, and perhaps listening to the so-called “Ambient Music” of Brian Eno.
I actually go further here, and say that in between your productive periods, you take notice of the assorted actions I take so as to achieve a state of, shall we say, Zen. Stare out a window. Watch the world go by, and listen to the sounds it makes when it does so.
I, in fact, venture to say that these so-called “down times” are, at times, deeply active, in that they free the mind to explore paths to that very grace and calm that you may be pursuing. I further argue that, in being so, they may, during the periods in which you engage in them, be the most constructive action open to you at that given moment.
In no way do I wish to state that you should do this all the time. I simply say that, when doing what you do, it is necessary to stop doing that thing, and do what many wrongly call Doing Nothing. To my way of thinking, there are times that this action is actually more of a Something than any other actions open to you.
I shall, of course, always be on hand to assist you in this suggested action whenever you may need help. When you lie down, I shall be on hand to position myself by your head. There, through steady purring, I shall provide what I believe is helpful auditory accompaniment which supplements the aforementioned “Ambient Music,” accompaniment to what, for me, has become not a mere “resting of the batteries,” but a transcendent period of illumination.
In conclusion: life is a long and difficult process. It requires awareness, and work. At the same time, though, it requires periods of rest.
With that said, I am here, just to the right of your pillow. Lie down. Now scratch my head, just behind the ears.
Perfect.
Thank you, sir.
Fondly,
Hugo
Emperor
Apartment D1
