Ah yes the resistance to change sets in. How is it that an entire day of chores crashes head long into my well-intentioned plans to pull off a decent morning sit?

I slowly wake up; arrange my mat and cushion in their place by the hearth, while my coffee is brewing, getting ready to meditate. It’s a cloudy Saturday morning. Perfect. I sit in my special spot on the couch. Sip my coffee all tucked in under the comfort of my grandmother’s quilt. I ease into waking up, because I can. The house is all mine. No one here. I’m blissfully alone. No intrusive noise. So quiet for an urban neighborhood. The silence is palpable. Perfect for a morning meditation.

I can see my meditation cushion waiting. So close, and yet so far away. It’s just so darn sweet right here. I decide to stay in this warm spot to begin my meditation session. I breathe, in and out. follow my breath. Yeah, this should work. And then the first item on my weekend “to do list” takes captive my prefrontal cortex. I followed the distraction. Executive functioning sunk. Gave right in to that resistance. Now, I’ve lost my window of opportunity.

Over 12 hours later, I try again. I sit. I follow my breath. In. Out. Ahhh, yes, starting to drop in now. But of course, sleepiness shows up as my new companion. Why not? And, I remember when Jack Kornfield referred to sleepiness as the lazy man’s way to enlightenment. It’s so familiar…this unique distraction to use the words from his teaching, "sloth", "torpor". I note again and again the point that my head begins to slowly drop backward, chin turning up, almost snoring. But, I’m easy with myself about this. It’s downright laughable. The honesty of fatigue at the end of a long day of chores & writing.

I note that sweet spot where I gently return to my breath after realizing that I’m about to drop into sleep. I pull this off by moving my head to rest upright again at the base of my spine. Alert now, awake again for a few more minutes until my head falls back to that place, almost snoring, chin up in the air, mouth falling open. It’s like a rhythmic dance of my head, choreographed by my somnambulant mind, backward and forward, left side to right. Again and again, I close my gaping mouth, lower my chin, laughing now at my humanity. Sleepy, Dopey, Pokey, Gumby. Maybe I’ll name each fall back toward sleep after one of the Seven Dwarfs.

Thinking mind reminds me that I’ll sleep well tonight. Now, back again to follow my breath. Finally, I drop in for quite some time. I guess it’s a decent bit of time, can’t know for sure, because now I’m in that timeless place that isn’t really a place -- the deep rest, peacefulness of this present moment. Then I hear it, barely audible, a soft rain falling on the roof, the tin cover of my chimney stack. I am here, now, breathing in a winter’s night, the rain of heaven.