This morning I had to get up very early. I kept telling myself that it was no big deal but it was: as soon as there is a deadline anywhere in my life my conscious and conscience go into overdrive and I am stuffed; I sleep badly and my body protests.
I got where I needed to be on time but it cost: I am sitting here on the couch while elsewhere a baby snores in blissful ignorance of the seriously fog-brained grandmother on guard. But I did meditate. I walked the walk, but the thing is, I didn't realize I was walking. Does that mean I didn't meditate?

Hey! I'm Breathing
Babysitting is part of a phase of life: first for pocket-money if there are babies in your pocket-money financed world. There weren't in mine. Then your own babies if you choose or are chosen to have them and finally, if you want, the grandchildren.
{This is not about if we want to babysit grandchildren or not, or if we should, or all those really interesting byways: this is about getting up too early to do a walking meditation.}
It was raining when I woke and I am not into walking in the dark in the rain. I had to drive to the metro station and park and walk about 5 minutes to the entrance. I felt great walking there, it was dry for the moment and it looked like I had plenty of time to get the next train, well within the schedule and I considered sending an update on my ETA to the kids. The temperature was very low, down to 5 degrees centigrade but there was barely any wind so the walk felt good. I briefly thought of my breath: not thinking breathe in breathe out, just: hey I'm breathing. 

It was only much later that I thought about that brief walk. First I thought: I could have done that more mindfully! Then I thought hey! wait a minute. Think back on that walk. What happened there?

I parked, shouldered my bag, locked the car. Patted her because I love having a little car. Crossed the road after checking the traffic situation. Noticed the weather: no wind, no rain, nice fresh air. I noticed the pavements were clear. I saw the people walking there, smiled at one, nodded at another. Briefly ran through my schedule and was grateful for our public transport that runs on time. I was really happy to find a seat. I thought of my other kids whom I wouldn't be seeing today and hoped they would have a good day. I remembered the lovely crispness of the air outside. I thought of the homeless and considered something I could do for them. I looked at other passengers and shared a smile with a young girl. Every now and again I'd think of my breath. I closed my eyes briefly and knew I was there, then. I noticed how smoothly my trip went and was happy to see my kids.

You know what? That 45-minute trip was a really great meditation.
It was not a classical sit-on-your-mat-and-BREEEEEEEEATHE. I will go for the sit-and-breathe tonight. But I am grateful for the feeling of calm that doing what you need to do the best way possible gives you. Accepting what is and going with that flow is also a meditation.