Monkey Mind

I bow my namaste to the universe
then sit down on my sofa
facing a window,
legs gently pretzled into a lotus
and settle down to meditate.
A quiet sojourn for twenty minutes.
Some peace if I’m lucky.
But my mind is like a super highway
and a billion thoughts whizz through.
My son meditates rarely.
He confided that once when he tried,
the world melted away.
All was one.
I’ve heard it from others, too.
Why does that never happen to me?
I’ve been doing this for years and years
and it’s always the same.
Some block maybe?
Hyperactive neurons?
I’m jealous of my son, the natural monk
to whom unity comes unbidden,
but I’ll keep doing what I’m doing
and leave the rest to the universe
and my neurons.

lotus blossom


About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard.
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One Response to Monkey Mind

  1. lcpknox says:

    I envy anyone who can meditate. Your mind being a “super highway” is the perfect way to describe how my mind also works.


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