I’m not much for meditation.
I’m envious of those who meditate–
like I am envious of those who
benefit from organized
religion, therapy and proper hydration.
My mind is too busy.
I thought yoga was my meditation
until someone pointed out that
what I am really doing is
stretching
because, while my body does yoga,
my mind does something
much more like a
mental decathlon,
alternating between clock watching
and powerful fantasizing.
At the same time, I notice that
meditation is what you make of it.
I’ve walked my dog every day,
several times a day, for more than a decade.
Silently,
methodically,
religiously,
tracing smaller and smaller paths
around first one neighborhood,
then another
until one of us disappeared into that
higher state of consciousness.
Without her, I literally have to walk myself.
For me, that takes the form of “going for coffee”.
My own shorthand for
centering & grounding myself.
Like meditation, its both restorative
and celebratory.
Coffee is my “go to” in good times & in bad.
There is meditation in any ritual,
I think.
A comfort in doing the familiar
that lets the mind disengage from the motion
and allows the body to find its still.