I’ll Tell You in Another Life, When We Are Both Cats
I am who I am because I quickly realised that the second I came into existence really meant
that, just as soon as I was born, just as soon I would be gone.
Ahh… life. What does it all mean. Not too much.
Ahhh… Identity…
What is it?
How do you interpret it?
I suppose everyone has different views on what constitutes the meaning of the word. Many
link it to our physical selves; appearance plays a big role. It’s the easiest way to judge the
unknown…
How do you present yourself to the world?
Some connect the concept to what your passion, job or vocation may be.
Few, however, interlink identity with our origins:
Where were you born?
How comfortable or aligned are you with your roots, birthplace and upbringing?
Some feel it’s made them who they are, while others’ sense of identity is curated by their
efforts to escape their past, who they thought they once were, or more specifically who they
were told to be…And in the wake of this rebellion forged a new life, persona and being.
These components are invaluable fibres that materialise the complex weave that is the human
psyche.
Our soul is like delicate clay, and the bittersweet occurrences of life are the skilful hands that
craftily shape and mould what will be the final piece, and that in essence is who we will turn
out to be.
Perhaps the most profound experience we will encounter is that of loss.
The concept of losing someone is so peculiar…
You can’t lose something that was never yours…
By definition, we can’t possess a sentient living being, and in actuality to assume one can is a
dangerous delusion that many struggle to surpass…
However, perhaps it simply implies that once the person is gone, we have also lost a piece of
ourselves, thus spending the rest of our lives attempting to live with the void.
Mortality, the greatest test we will encounter.
Death which births fear…
Fear is that which divides…Born of ignorance, unkindness…
Breeding loneliness…
Loneliness, so unnecessary yet so prevalent.
The root of people’s fears…
The great unknown, eternal solitude I suppose.
‘Against his will he dieth that hath not learned to die. Learn to die and thou shalt learn to live,
for there shall none learn to live that hath not learned to die’
-Toure of all Tours: and Teacheth a Man for to Die.
The Book of the Craft of Dying (Comper’s Edition).
We shall continue this discussion in another life when we’re both cats.
By Yasmin Aria Braganza, 2023