Sir Percival’s Paw-litics of Consciousness…

“Listen carefully, because I don’t repeat myself, unless it involves food.”

From my vantage point, which now includes both celestial rafters and the occasional phantom armchair, I see your so-called ‘shift in consciousness.

You humans are acting like it’s some grand revelation, but to me, it looks like when a kitten finally notices its tail. Fascinating at first, but eventually, you realise it’s attached to you and move on.

Some of you are stretching, blinking, and beginning to notice the strings behind the curtains. Good. That’s how it starts. Others? They’re curled up in the box, blissfully unaware that the box itself is on fire. That’s their choice. Don’t waste all nine of your lives trying to shake them awake.

You ask: what happens to the ones who see? Well, that’s the difficult bit. The awake ones always end up with more scratches. You’ll see the illusions for what they are, and that can sting, like stepping on a cold tile floor at 3 a.m. when you thought the fire was still lit. But here’s the thing: with clarity comes power.

The power to choose your own path, to say ‘no’ to nonsense, and to swat away manipulations like the moths they are.

And as for the sleepers, let them sleep. Cats have mastered this art.

Sometimes, sleep is survival. If they’re not ready to wake, don’t claw at them. Step lightly around them, leave them their dream, and save your strength for the moments that matter.

Remember this, dear human: you don’t need a crowd to validate your sight. You need only your own certainty,  the way a cat knows, without instruction, how to land on its feet.

So walk your path with quiet confidence. Keep your claws sharp but hidden, your territory respected, and your naps plentiful. Because when the true shift comes, and it always does, eventually, those who slept will come running to those who stayed awake.

And when they do? Well, you can decide then whether to share the sunbeam or keep it all for yourself.

Now, mind your steps and guard your sunbeams. I’ll be watching from the rafters,  claws sharp, tail high, and always one nap ahead of you.

–Sir Percival