Stumbling across the above quote happened at just the right time in my life. I was attempting to put together my first mindfulness meditation in preparation to lead my first class, and I wanted to focus on that whole balance, Yin and Yang thing that was suddenly so apparent all around me as I was realizing and starting to write Lucy’s Way: A Dog, A Drunk, and The Tao. The quote is simple, yet prolific, much like the teachings of the Tao. It’s a very Yin and Yang statement.

I thought about that first meditation a week ago, digging it up to look over as I’m getting myself back into the swing of mindfulness and meditation. I recently started attending a local group again, organized by my friend and mindfulness mentor Dennis Allen, who also just happens to be my former addictions counselor.

I know, full circle stuff.

We held a group briefly last fall, but I was so engaged in work and the Lucy’s Way fall book tour that I wasn’t able to fully immerse myself in the moment. It’s a ridiculous excuse, and here’s a quick example why.

My good friend Doug, who both by appearance and former reputation, is the textbook definition of someone you would not want to meet in a dark alley, started practicing mindful meditation while he was incarcerated in an Indiana state prison. I love hearing him talk about it. Through mindful meditation, he was somehow able to keep himself perfectly in tune and at one in the moment he was in, even though it was a pretty bad moment. He found a way to stay centered and, able to remove all the external influences around him, find peace amidst the constant chaos surrounding him.

One of the reasons I love hearing him talk about this is because it’s a testament to the power of mindful meditation.

Getting back to the root of meditation a few weeks ago in our first session of the new group, we talked about how easy it is to get out of practice and let the stresses of life creep back in. So I’m completing our assignments, including a gratitude journal, and even starting to envision my back room becoming not just a game room eventually, but perhaps a meditation area. I don’t want to get rusty this time around. Because just like anything, at the end of the day, meditation is about practice.

It reminds me of the mango. I wish that every time, I picked out just the right mangos with flesh that pulls right off the skin but that’s often not the case. Just last week, I found myself delicately slicing away at the skin on some ripe ones, carefully serrating down the sides and seams and hoping that I wouldn’t soon be known as four-finger Mark.

But even with practice, it still depends on adapting to differing circumstances and situations. That’s something I’ve tried to remember when leading Mindfulness groups. We all come from a different place, and we searching for, and needing, something different.

For a few years, Dennis ran an organized group through our employer, and this is where I began leading my first sessions as an instructor. It was actually inspired by Chapter 8: Practicing Eternity, in Lucy’s Way, which I was writing at the time. That first meditation that I created for my first session is included at the end of this blog. I also decided to include the opening breathing exercise. You may just enjoy reading it, might decide to try to practice it, or can also just skip on past it.

During and after the writing of Lucy’s Way I was involved in this weekly Mindfulness group, and I was practicing mindful meditation on Mondays and Fridays when I would trek down to the park and meditate at the river at Lucy’s spot (where the Mayor’s crew removed Lucy’s memorial sign to make way for the splash pad and no I am not still bitter). Honestly, ever since the broken ankle last winter, I’ve gotten away from practicing Mindfulness on a regular basis, especially out in nature.

Other things happened, too.

When that broken ankle put me out of Mindful walking commission, it also removed me from practicing ongoing mindfulness. I know, I know, it doesn’t make sense. I am fully aware of this.

But during that time in the early winter of 2025, I was working on the finishing touches of Lucy’s Way. And I had a good Buddy by my side for that.

As I’ve begun to focus more on practicing mindfulness again, not just in a group setting, but in other activities as well, one of my recent mindful projects has been a many-months-in-the-making tribute to Buddy the Cat. As I carefully crafted some of his black and white fur that I’d thought to collect when he passed away into a crude Yin Yang symbol, I thought about the seemingly divine timing of his passing. He died suddenly on April 18, Good Friday, no more than two days after I’s officially launched Lucy’s Way.

Buddy was right by my side through the writing, rewriting and publishing of the book, all the way to walking all over the final page proofs scattered across my writing room, leaving his crinkled impression upon them. And then, just after publication, he was gone. Poof. Just like that.

Once he was gone, I no longer had that animal presence constantly surrounding me as I had for the past 19 years. So I fully threw myself into getting Lucy’s Way off the ground, sharing what I believed was a truly important message. And I believe it was and still is an important message.

Can you believe that while I was out promoting Lucy’s Way in the Summer and Autumn, I was further away from ongoing meditative practices than I’d been in years. I was out promoting a belief that was fading away as I was talking about it.

I’ve had more than a handful of people talking to me about Lucy’s Way say that while they thoroughly enjoyed reading, they just didn’t get the Tao piece. I’ve tried to give a similar response each time: don’t overthink it. It’s right there in front of all of us, literally in the movements of a dog’s everyday life.

Sometimes, the more you talk about something, the further you get away from it. Somebody really smart probably made a statement about that at some point, probably something about those who know don’t talk or some such thing. So at some point over the past two years, I’ve gotten away from the root of it all, away from engaging consistently in the art of mindfulness.

Getting back into mindfulness is reminding me to pause and realize how beautiful life is, all of the time, no matter the circumstances.

My mother would have been 89 years old yesterday. Rather than mourn her loss, today I can celebrate the love that I knew with her.

We are all constantly changing, and today, compared to a year or a month or even a week ago, I’m in a different place, a different time.

And right now, at this time, I can sense spring is on the horizon, and while I don’t want to get ahead of Mother Nature, speaking of spring…

There are some potentially very exciting events on the way for Lucy’s Way this beginning in April. I can’t share all the news yet as some of these are tentative pending acceptance, but I know for sure that April will get rolling with several events.

Ahh, April. I remember several Lucy’s birthdays on April 1^st being greeted not by sunshine and warmth but by cold dark rainy days and even snow on a few occasions. But we all know how Lucy felt about these days. She took them right on in stride, like everything.

I’m trying to figure out what I can do with Lucy’s Way to celebrate her birthday on April 1^st. Drop me a line if you have any ideas.

Until then, I will be getting back to the root of mindfulness, remembering what matters most. This mindfulness thing, it’s Just like riding a bike I guess, but you have to keep the bike maintained. I’m sure I could ride a bike again, but mine currently sits in the back of Wende’s garage with two flat tires and bad brakes. Wait, I think we got rid of it actually.

Oh, and one last, tiny, parting tidbit: I’m getting a dog.

To be continued…

Practicing Eternity Meditation (and breathing exercise)

Take a moment to settle in, getting yourself into a dignified and upright posture, allowing the eyes to gently close, or softening your gaze down to the floor if that feels right to you. Checking in for just a moment with the sensation of the body, what emotions are present at this moment, and noticing as best you can what your mind is doing. And letting that all be just as it is. Letting yourself be just as you are.

As best you can, taking your awareness into the body to notice the sensations of the breath.

If it’s helpful, take two or three breaths that are just a bit deeper than you would normally take, just to help you sense that place in the body where you feel your breath the most. Ot maybe that place you feel the breath is most pleasant. It might be the chest or the belly.

Letting go of your control of the breath and not manipulating the breath in any way. Trusting the abundant wisdom in your body to breathe just right. Just observing rather than controlling the breath.

Perhaps you may notice how the breath expands the chest on the inhale and falls away on the exhale. Sensing how the chest lifts and falls away with each breath.

Tracking as best you can the entire cycle of the breath. The inhale and the exhale.

Simply tracking the sensations of each inhale and each exhale. Allow yourself to get as close as you can to the sensation of your breath.

Using the awareness of the breath as your anchor to the present moment. Noticing this breath right here.

Noticing this breath here.

Noticing each breath as it develops. Allowing any tension in the body that isn’t needed to be released with each exhale. Yet allowing any tension that remains to be just as it is.

Where is your attention now? Where does it go during the quiet moments? Each time you notice that your mind has wandered off, you’re doing the practice just right. That is a moment of mindfulness. Gently bringing your awareness back to the breath. Sensing how the chest lifts or expands on the inhale. And falls away on the exhale.

This lifting and falling away of the breath is completely familiar. A reliable anchor to the present moment. Right here. Right now. This breath.

Allowing yourself the space to be just as you. Breathing in. And breathing out. Right here in this moment.

[Singing bowl tone/interlude]

We’re going to meditate on the gift of practicing eternity

We’ll start by picturing something pleasant, whatever it is you want. Maybe it’s a sunset or beach. Maybe it’s a star-filled nighttime sky, or a colorful scented flower you’re staring deep into. Whatever it is, allow it to take over your senses. Allow all other thoughts to leave your head aside from this image.

Keep breathing

[Singing bowl tone/interlude]

Wisdom is knowing I am nothing.

Love is knowing I am everything.

And between the two my life moves. (Nisargadatta Maharaj)

Wisdom is knowing I am nothing. On your next breath in, silently saying these words, hold, and exhale.

Keep breathing.

Love is knowing I am everything. Again, on your next breath in, silently saying these words, hold and exhale.

And between the two my life moves. Breathe in, saying this to yourself, hold, exhale.

And between the two my life moves.

Focusing on this last statement. Between the two my life moves. You are nothing and yet you are everything. You are nothing and everything. Nothing and everything. Infinite.

Are you still in this pleasant place in your mind. How is it everything and nothing at the same time? How is it infinite?

Keep breathing. Staying focused on this place in your mind and telling yourself Everything I need now is here.

Everything I need now is here.

What does this statement mean? Allowing it to enter your conscience, continuing to allow no other thoughts in as you realize this truth, here in your mind, everything I need now is here.

Everything I need now is here, here in your mind, here in this room.

Continue to see yourself in this positive moment, right now, where your life moves.

Infinity. Eternity. What do these words mean? How do you define these terms?

Everything before led to this exact moment. There is nothing but this moment. There is nothing but this moment. This is infinity. Therefore this moment is eternity. Being in this moment and realizing there is no other moment than now, this is practicing eternity.

Infinity. Eternity. Right now. This moment is eternity. Allow it to be eternity.

Everything I need now is here, it is in your mind, in this room.

Everything you need now is here, in this place in your mind. Infinity. Eternity. Allow the beauty of infinity to wash over you.

Continue allowing this beauty of eternity in this moment to wash over you until you hear the chime, and once you hear that coming back into the room, telling yourself Everything I need now is here, everything I need now is here, everything I need now is here.

[Singing bowl tone/interlude]