The Dalai Lama's Cat and the Art of Purring Read Online Free PDF

said Serena. “But I wondered if I was the only one.”
    “No, the place has changed,” Sam insisted, holding her eyes for a full two seconds before breaking his gaze. “You’ve changed, too.”
    “Oh?” she said, smiling. “How?”
    “You’ve got this … energy. This j-joie de v-vivre.”
    Serena nodded. “I do feel different. I’ve been thinking about how in all those years of managing some of the most upscale restaurants in Europe, I don’t think I ever had as much fun as I did last Wednesday night. I never would have believed it could be so wonderfully satisfying!”
    Sam reflected for a moment before observing, “As that psychologist said the other day, sometimes it’s hard to predict what will make us happy.”
    “Exactly. I’m beginning to wonder if being head chef at one of London’s top restaurants really is what I want to do next.”
    I was looking at Sam as she said this and observed the change in his expression. A gleam came into his eyes.
    “If I go back to doing the same thing,” continued Serena, “it will probably produce the same result.”
    “More stress and b-burnout?”
    She nodded. “There are rewards, too, of course. But they’re very different from the ones here.”
    “Do you think it was cooking for family and friends that made the difference?” Sam suggested. Then, flashing a mischievous glance he added, “Or was it about awakening the vindaloo within?”
    Serena chuckled. “Both. I’ve always adored curries. Even though they’ll never be haute cuisine, I love cooking them because of the many flavors, and they’re so nourishing. But as well as that, it felt as if last Wednesday was really special for people.”
    “I agree,” said Sam. “The place had a great vibe.”
    “There’s something very fulfilling when you can do what you really care about, and it’s appreciated by others.”
    Sam looked pensive before putting down his mug, rising from the sofa, and going to a bookshelf. He returned with a paperback copy of Man’s Search for Meaning, by the Austrian psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl. “What you just said reminded me of something,” he said, opening the book at its preface. “‘Don’t aim at success,’” he read. “‘The more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue … as the unintended side effect of one’s dedication to a course greater than oneself.’”
    Serena nodded. “In a very small way, I think that’s what I’m discovering.” For a moment they held each other’s eyes. “And in the strangest of ways.”
    Sam was curious. “How do you mean?”
    “Well, the whole idea of an Indian banquet only happened because of a chance conversation I had with Kusali. And that only happened because I found little Rinpoche stranded.”
    Sam knew about the afternoon I had been trapped on the wall. There had been much speculation about how I had ended up there, none of it correct.
    “You might say that all of this only came about because of Rinpoche,” she said, gazing down adoringly and stroking me.
    “Rinpoche, the catalyst,” observed Sam.
    As the two of them chuckled, I thought how no one, least of all me, could ever have guessed at the chain of events that would be triggered by my decision that Monday afternoon to turn left instead of right when I left the café. Nor would any of us have believed what was still to come. For what had happened so far turned out to be only the beginning of a much bigger story—a story in which many dimensions of happiness were to emerge as unintended but most rewarding side effects.
    Unpredictable? Most certainly. Enlightening? Indubitably!

C HAPTER T WO
    What makes you purr?
    Of all the questions in the world, this is the most important. It is also the great leveler. Because no matter whether you are a playful kitten or a sedentary senior, a scrawny alley Tom or a sleek-coated uptown girl, whatever