Day 6: When the Mind Wanders

I have been practicing for thirty years, and my mind still wanders. But I am rooted in the present moment most of the time, unless something extraordinarily stressful happens — like someone is injured, or I hurt myself physically. In those moments, even after all these years, the mind can still get caught. That is just being human. I practice with my eyes open because it creates a shield — a living barrier that keeps stress from penetrating. When I lie down with my eyes open, soft and relaxed, I watch my thoughts like waves at the beach. Most days, the waves are small and quiet. I notice a thought about what to cook for dinner, or a memory of a conversation, or a simple sensation. I watch it rise, and I watch it fall. No drama. No struggle. But on the rare days when something stressful has happened, the waves are bigger. They might pull at me. That is when the shield becomes most valuable — not to block the waves, but to remind me that I am the ocean underneath, and the shield holds steady. Even the big waves pass.