The Buddha said that any task you do if done mindfully is a sort of meditation. We assume he said it, we’ve been told he did, but no one I know was anywhere near that bodhi tree, so we take it on faith. When it comes to things like chopping large quantities of onions, or roasting coffee beans I totally get it, it does seem like meditation, and deep at that. Walking the dog makes the list, and perhaps convincing the cat to do anything she didn’t think of by out waiting her. I can even accept washing the car or the dishes, but washing the dog is only so on rare occasions and only if I medicate her first, and the cat, forget it. But even Buddha would have to concede that no matter how totally mindful you are, driving anywhere in either Broward or Miami-Dade counties is as far from meditative as opting to commit sepuku with a butter knife.
Stuck in traffic yet again my mind wanders, unimpinged by the need to pay careful attention to the car on front also frozen in place. I am back in school listening carefully as the teacher explains the problem: “You are at point B and I am at point A. The points are 100 miles apart and we each leave for the other point at exactly the same time, 10:00 A.M., you driving at a constant 40 mile per hour, I at a constant 30 miles per hour. At exactly what time will we be able to wave to one another?” The car in front begins to move, ending my revery, so I cannot tell the teacher that we’ll never wave to each other because I am far too young to drive.