Stay

By KRISTIN SLYE, LMFT

I’m fairly convinced that my dog, Ms. Matty, is Buddha in a fur disguise; me foolishly thinking that I’m here to teach her, when all along, it’s quite the opposite.

We have a little ritual each morning where we walk out to a secluded vista. I close my eyes and turn in each of the four directions, taking a few deep breaths with my hands on my heart. North, east, south, west - a mini meditation. As I do this, I say to Matty in a firm voice, “Stay!” so she doesn’t run off when my eyes are literally closed. As I turn to each new direction, she could possibly read my movement as, “Let’s go,” so I need to repeat the command, “Stay!,” each time I turn. I often peek just to make sure she hasn’t run off. She’s always there waiting.

Today, as we did this thing we have so often done before, I realized that “Stay!,” was as much for me as it was for her. She sat there quietly resisting all sorts of temptation: interesting smells, pine cones falling, and a fierce built-in urge to chase chipmunks.  As I stood there, trying to quiet my mind, as much as Matty wanted to chase critters, my mind desperately wanted to chase thoughts. Random thoughts like what to eat for dinner, ruminations of what I could’ve said differently in a meeting, or deep fears around not being liked or understood. These thoughts are as tempting to me as a chipmunk covered in peanut butter to my dog, but I realize that stay is the action.

STAY present and in the moment

STAY grounded with feet firmly planted

STAY with the breath and in my body

STAY with myself, as uncomfortable as it feels sometimes

The “let’s go” will come soon enough, but all I need to do is simply stay like my sweet dog taught me.