Dogged Meditation


I sit down to meditate, set my timer, and ask God to let me use this time well.

Immediately thoughts crowd my monkey mind: I need to prepare class, I have a major doctor’s appointment next week, I even start to compose a poem.

I call upon my border collie mind to herd these thoughts; but, sheep-like, they scatter away from the lone shepherd.

Then I feel a thump on the sofa and I know one of my dogs is joining me.

It’s a comfortable feeling as she circles, settles down with her head on a cushion, and makes contented snuffling noises.

I think “This is a metaphoric border collie, sent to remind me to focus on higher things.”

But then I wonder if there really is a difference between the sacred and mundane? Or does the sacred entwine with every facet of life, even my inattention?

Would St. Francis have turned from his animals to pray?

Does a mother hold her child at a distance while praying?

I shrug my shoulders and return to meditation, but with less of a sense of failure.

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