(for Scott)
Walking the dog,
focusing on the breath,
in and out, in rhythm
with my step, my
digital meditation bell
ticking away for twenty-five
minutes inside my pocket,
suddenly I realize that
I am missing group meditation.
I have to breathe more deeply
through the frustration
I feel for my forgetful self,
meditating and forgetting
to meditate, in solitude
and missing my community.
It’s true, I have been
distracted of late, what with
the end of the world and all,
trying to stay informed and
yet trying and failing to just
stay away, tune out, turn off,
power down, log out, let the
world do its thing, a deep struggle
between doing nothing and
doing something, between
a nagging doubt that says
meditation changes nothing
to a certainty that everything
is changed and that the inward
work resonates outward
and transforms the universe.
This is certain:
Things will work themselves
out one way or another.
The group will do its thing
and I can be both absent and
present at the same time;
and the world will do its thing
and I can be there to push
it along in the right direction
through breath, word, rhythm,
whether I am alone or with others,
sitting, walking, and listening for
the mindful bell that goes off
in my pocket, its sonorous chime
rings once, twice, a third time–
and I’m home.
michael jarmer 