The Healing Power of Meditation With Animals
Esme - my Zen Kitty
Have I been meditating for a while? Ha, you could say that! Yes, I’ve been a meditator for many years. My animals join me, too — though I should say we meditate together. They guide the process as much as I do, and their meditation techniques are creative and varied.
Moopy
My cats are born meditators. They often seem to sleep, but they are journeying the astral plains.
If anything, cats could be Zen masters and teach humans how to meditate. I think they nailed this, at least the cats that graced my life; I’m so lucky.
My cats often place themselves on a part of my body that needs healing. When they do this, I pay attention and get quiet with them. They often gaze at me as if seeing right through to my essence.
My cat Moopy was especially attuned to me like no other cat. At the end of her life, she slept next to my head and breathed with me in unison until I fell asleep. On her last day on earth, she sat all day motionless in my backyard, facing East, until she let her body go at night. She was a true goddess.
Esme
My cat, Esme, is still young and active, but there are distinct times when she goes into the zone, as I call it, and becomes a Buddha cat, motionless and graceful.
She also seems to have an internal clock, and when it’s getting close to midnight, she comes to me and drapes herself on my lap, insisting that I put my hand on the top of her head, on her crown chakra. Needless to say, I stop what I’m doing when she’s going into meditation mode. She’s making muffins on one of my arms as I’m typing this, by the way.
Esme also habitually sits near my head at night, watching me drift to sleep. She makes soft sounds like a lullaby, ushering me into Dreamtime as stillness weaves around me.
Jonah
Another memory that comes to mind is that of my dog Jonah. He was dying, and we meditated together in my backyard while we were waiting for our vet to arrive. It was a mild late September day, and it was sunny.
I performed a ceremony with him and removed the harness he wore during the last months of his life. With great care, I gently brushed Jonah’s body. It was an act of devotion for my beautiful dog.
He had stopped eating a while ago and accepted a piece of shredded chicken as his last meal. The chicken was a sacred offering, my Prasad to him. Then, both of us went into the sphere and meditated.
Jonah’s last piece of chicken
Silence. Jonah’s heartbeat. Timelessness. My sadness. All of it. We journeyed through this together until he took his last breath. He was connecting with peace.
Moopy watching over Shiva in his meditation room
My dog Shiva was also a meditator. Every night, he would retreat into another room to be still for an hour or two while my cat Moopy watched over him on the windowsill.
Then, he would meander back into the central area of the house. Every. Single. Night.
I’m convinced he was a temple guardian in one of his previous lives.
Pablo and Meelah
When Meelah was still alive, the dogs and I had our meditation time late in the evening, and we tuned out the world. I sat or layed down with them, sometimes on the floor, sometimes on my bed or the sofa. I synchronized my breathing with theirs. Our heartbeats merged. This lasted a few minutes or up to an hour, and was our time outside of time. We were breathing in eternity in these moments. Our shared sacred breath made us whole.
Meditation with my pets is integral to my life, and I cannot imagine living without it. It has enriched me beyond measure. My animals keep reminding me that stillness and joy are our natural states when we listen to our breath and heartbeat.
There’s nowhere else to be but here.
