Member-only story
Not One. Not Two. Not Not Two.
When Mummy meditates, too.
Sparky had begun meditating really to get away from Mummy and that part wasn’t working out so well.
Mummy would pop her head into the room to see if he wanted his tea yet or would vacuum the hallway, running the Hoover into his closed door several times before moving on to do the stairs. When he’d go to the zendo to sit, she’d stop by with treats for everyone and so had become a big hit with the sensei who asked about her all the time.
Then Sparky found the perfect place.
He began “sitting” zazen in the trunk of the car, pulling the trunk almost shut and arranging himself comfortably. It was dark. It was quiet. And, somehow, this is where Mummy didn’t ever come looking for him. It was here in the dark, in the musty silence, that his monkey mind could really get to jumping. Doing just as his sensei, Mister McKinley, had counseled, Sparky watched his thoughts without attaching importance to them.
One day he climbed out of the trunk and slid quietly back into the house to find Mummy sitting on the edge of the chintz loveseat in the corner, with her hands folded and her eyes downcast. He moved carefully past her and went to get his tea. Mummy? Sitting? Well, imagine that!
