Yesterday, I did not take the time to sit and meditate.  All morning I meant to get to it...especially since we planned a drive to the Valley in the afternoon.  And, all morning, one thing came up after another.  Little chores, unexpected phone calls, an unsettled stomach--should I eat?  Maybe I need to lie down? Then the anxiety of preparing to leave the house:  should I fill a water bottle?  Bring apples?  Oh, maybe I could read this book in the car.  A flurry of little anxious spikes.

What I DID do, is take moments throughout the afternoon and focus on my breath.  At one point, we were walking in back country, along a narrow dirt road.  We were high above the Merced River and on every side were mountains.  We walked.  Companionable.  But, no talking.  I breathed.  Looked at the expanse of purple blue mountains, one after the other, to the coast.  I listened to a bird.  Then another.  We walked in sync--same rhythm.  I looked. l breathed.

On arriving back at the house, I KNEW I should NOT GET Caught in all the choices I could make--but just get the cushion out and sit.  But, I was hungry.  Sore.  Tired.  Wanted to play Scrabble.  So I let it go.  This is an old habit--giving in to the short term satisfaction over the more long-term. 

But, I did not let myself make this a BAD thing--something to feel guilty about.

Instead, I again, took a few minutes between activities to concentrate on my breath, to feel my body, to stay focused on my self in this room at this time--not rabbiting toward the next activity, the next plan or going over something that caught my attention from our earlier day.  

Okay--it was only a matter of two minutes here, four minutes there...

There is value in the longer focused sit.  But, in these little sits were still places,  too.  They gave me a chance to forgive myself and to go on.  Not bad.