Lucinda Cummings
How to Meditate With Your Dog
- Adopt a dog. Preferably one who is calm and highly attuned to your gestures, facial expressions, and tone of voice. Perhaps a dog who was abandoned at 6 weeks of age in a cardboard box in the parking lot of an animal shelter in Indianapolis. A dog who knows loss and sorrow, a mixed breed puppy saved by the underground railroad known as Border Collie Rescue. Who picked him up and transported him to the Twin Cities one November, just a year after the sudden death of your 23-year-old son. Take this puppy with big feet into your family, where he grows up to weigh 45 pounds, with the softest coat of black, and the white and tan markings of a “tricolor”; white chest and feet, a white stripe between his black and tan ears. Soulful brown eyes ringed in black that look as though he’s wearing dark eyeliner. Name him Mingus, after the great jazz bassist, Charles Mingus.
- Study mindfulness meditation. Download the “Insight Timer” app onto your iPad.
- Every morning, walk upstairs to your son’s old room, the place where Benjamin died eight years ago. The room you have befriended slowly over these many years: opening the shades wide to the southern light, hanging photos of happier family times, setting up your quilting supplies, bringing in the three citrus trees that are descendants of trees your son once grew from seedlings, and meditating here every day.
- Hear your dog’s collar jingling as he follows you up the stairs. If he doesn’t follow you upstairs right away, rest assured that as soon as he hears the meditation chime from wherever he is in the house, he will appear in front of you.
- Sit down in the rocking chair by the window, the one in which you comforted your two sons as babies, the one where Benjamin’s friends used to sit when they visited him late at night for tutoring in calculus or watching a movie together on his computer. Sink into the soft cushions and see Mingus approaching you, wagging his fluffy tail and placing his head into your lap. Those irresistible eyes looking into yours, love and oxytocin flooding your body and his. Rub the velvet fur on top of his head, as he closes his eyes and soaks in your soothing touch.
- Let your dog circle your chair a few times, his tail thudding on the wall as he tunnels under your sewing table and comes out again to nudge your hand with his cold, wet nose. Hold your hand out as he slides his sleek body along underneath it, until your hand reaches the sweet spot: the particular place on his rump, just above his tail, where he loves to be scratched, the location Mingus can’t reach with his own nibbling teeth.
- Open the meditation app on your tablet and place it on the table next to you.
- Push the “Start” icon and fade out your scratching, your dog slowly sinking down onto the floor at your side.
- Hear the meditation starting chime as Mingus stretches out on the carpet, his back legs fully extended behind him, head resting on his white front paws.
- Close your eyes, take three deep settling breaths, soften your belly, and drop your awareness down into your body, to your heart. Feel your body let go of tension as you breathe your way into the present. Allow the armor around your heart to soften. Open your awareness to whatever arises: thoughts, emotions, feelings in your body. Send loving kindness to yourself, Benjamin, your beloveds, and all sentient beings.
- Take in the comforting sounds of Mingus snoring, or rearranging his body on the floor while you focus on your breath.
- Should you decide to listen to a guided meditation that includes chanting, know that your dog will behave as though you’re in pain, getting up to lick your hands and trying to climb into your lap.
- When you hear the ending bell, gently open your eyes as Mingus stands, wagging his tail hopefully while you reach to turn off the app.
- Grab your pen and meditation journal from the table. See Mingus lie down again, sighing, because he knows we’re not quite done here. Write a few sentences in the journal while Mingus waits with his head up and his eyes following your every move.
- The moment you close the pen with a “click,” see Mingus stand up, yawn, and turn toward the door. Follow him down the stairs, feeling the spaciousness within, where there is room for joy, grief, remembrance, and deep gratitude for your loyal meditation companion.
Lucinda Cummings
Lucinda Cummings began her meditation practice after the sudden, unexpected death of her 23-year-old son in 2012. She initially studied Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction and established a daily practice. Over the subsequent 5 years, she found herself grieving the additional losses of her mother, brother, father, and dog. She turned in desperation to Stephen Levine’s book, Unattended Sorrow, which led her to the intensive study of Mindful Self-Compassion over the past 3 years. She has a daily sitting practice and practices MSC informally. Recently she has been exploring ways to integrate her meditation practice with her Judaism.
Lucinda Cummings is a writer and child clinical psychologist who lives in Minneapolis with her husband and dog. She studies writing at the Loft Literary Center, and her work has appeared in Hippocampus, Moon Magazine, mamazine, Mutha, and the award winning 2019 anthology, She’s Got This! An essay is forthcoming in Woven Tale Press, and she recently finished writing a memoir about finding home.