I’ve learned to pause a few times a day and escape modern life’s distractions, intrusions, disconnection, and confusion. I get up early, shower and dress, and have breakfast with Maria (who has just come in from feeding the sheep and donkeys). I sit by the living room wood stove, which takes the chill out of the night and greets the morning.

I do this after lunch and before dinner if I remember and I try to make the time. Mini-meditations, I call them.

I sit in my chair for five or ten minutes of quiet and solitude and think about what I want to happen this day. Zinnia understands habit and ritual. She is waiting every morning and jumps up on the footstool and reaches over to lick my chin. I have to say it is a beautiful way to start the day.

This goes on for a minute or two; Zinni is graceful and sensitive. For a big dog, she never jumps up on me or anyone else or pushes against me.

I end the love fest by grabbing her by the ears and kissing her on the nose. And then I say “that’ll do,” as I said to my border collies.

Then she climbs down, and I sit back and think a bit. Zinnia lies down at my feet. In a sense, Zinnia sets the tone for the day. Dogs have been so good to me.

(Photo by Maria Wulf)