They say you can meditate anywhere, even in the midst of noise and distractions.
I put this proposal to the test today as I began my Lenten reading and meditation practice while my plumber was clanking around the guest bathroom to install new faucets and a shower head.
I know. If I were a better feminist, I would learn to do such handiwork myself. But so long as I can still afford to have such chores done for me, I will leave it to the professionals, thanks.
The first grand interruption came when CJ popped out to show me how decrypt one piece of the plumbing was and what a hard time he had in pulling it out.
I explained it had been there since the house was built in 1992. When he noted that was the year of his birth, I suddenly felt ancient.
The next distraction was the sound of the birds. It had been raining earlier, so they were delighted to come out and sing cheerily when it went away.
Then came a ringing sound from the bathroom that put me in mind of lightly chiming bells. Instead of 20 minutes, I ended up coming out of meditation in 15.
But I noticed something. When I went on to do my Divine Mercy chaplet later, I did so with a more deeply focused awareness of each bead, dropping into a deeper silence of prayer. The sense of peacefulness I had saying it was more profound and fully felt.
There may be something to this meditation thing during Lent after all.
Ecce. Fiat. Magnificat.