The Rabbit Trails of Intentions

I hopped out of bed with the intention to plant 4 dozen onions. I planted a 6-pack of chard instead.

But before i could do that, i had to go down the rabbit trail of cleaning up the little bed i was transplanting the chard into. Which meant i had to dig up the flowers that had sown themselves there--feverfew, lamium, and woodland poppies. In order to pot up those flowers, so i can give them away, i needed to screen my young compost. 45 minutes later, the chard is planted and the onions are still patiently sitting there, looking at me.

Sort of sounds like our meditation practice some days. Perhaps we get out of bed late, and just want to hit the computer to check the weather or send an email. 45 minutes, and many rabbit trails, later, we're not even dressed for work, and our time for meditation has evaporated.

Or our life. We intend a spiritual practice, but life! So much to do. Loved ones to care for and worry about. The mortgage to pay. 45 years later, where are we?

We're still in the present moment. And Life is patiently looking at us, smiling.