First meditation

November 4, 2008 at 7:39 pm Leave a comment


I’m leaving to work as a poll observer for my precinct, so I can either throw some piece of trash together quickly, or make a slightly less lame attempt to sooth that unsettled election day feeling by delving into the Roberta vault. Here’s a fraction of what went though my mind during my first one-hour meditation.

Why the hell am I here? I can never do this.  Do I have the right posture? My back is going to hurt really soon and I’ll have to move or go into a chair like that old hippie lady. Thinking. I just have to label everything Thinking and then it doesn’t matter what I think. Thinking. Breathe. Only 25 percent of my attention on the outbreath. What the hell does that mean? Do I put 75 percent on the inbreath or none at all? Thinking. I have to move I just have to my back is killing me. The guy next to me figured it’s OK to move after I did, I’m usually the leader in this kind of stuff. I don’t know if I like this square high cushion thing I’ll try the round one. I made sure I got a round and a square cushion before anyone else took them. I guess that’s sort of selfish, especially in a place like this. I can always go on the chair. I want that ergonomic back chair over there but I don’t want to disturb the woman right next to it. Why is she only inches away from the chair I want? Thinking. There’s a bunch of old ladies here who are flabbier than me. They don’t dye their hair. Old hippies. Thinking. That woman over there looks like my friend Sally-same spinster look with the dated dress and bad glasses. She looks lonely. Wonder if she ever had a decent relationship. I should talk. Breathe. I have to start labeling Thinking as Thinking or I’m not doing the meditation right. That’s a Thinking just there. Thinking. I have to close my eyes for a minute to focus and focus on my breathing. Thinking. Is it still a Thinking if you think about something you’re supposed to be doing in meditation? Thinking-just in case it is. Breathe. Breathe. Only 25 percent of focus on the breath. The woman leading this thing looks really stupid with her eyes sort of open and a slack jaw plus she’s fatter than I am but it doesn’t seem to bother her. The noise of that fan is driving me nuts it’s been click click clicking since I got here. Thinking. It’s Thinking you idiot! I can always leave but I’m doing OK so far. Has it been twenty minutes? Breathe. Take a few deep breaths. Wow, that person in front of me is even more restless than I am. He is taking something out of his pocket to check the time-there is a pack of cigarettes in there. I wonder if he is trying to use meditation to quit smoking. I bet he has many bad habits. Thinking. Thinking- it’s frigging Thinking. Breathe. Try to focus but not too much on breathing. The guy’s getting up he’s leaving-I’m better than him because I’m staying. I wonder if this will change my life quickly. How much should I get into this? Thinking. I don’t want to burn out on it but I’m not the type to sit still for a long time. I wish the lady would bang the gong so I can say I did this. Thinking. Maybe I’m getting better at this. What if I get so healthy I won’t be funny and neurotic on the air? Who wants to listen to a calm, boring mediator? Thinking. God I have so many thoughts and most of them are useless crap. Thinking. My posture sucks. I have to work on that balance between leading with my heart center and not overextending my back. Breathe though my back and front. This isn’t yoga. Thinking. I should be exercising instead of doing this for an hour. Maybe the walking meditation will burn some calories-that’s twenty minutes. They say twenty minutes of aerobics is the daily minimum. Thinking. Thinking.THINKING! Meditation is not aerobic. That’s the kind of thing I would think. Thinking. I should have known a place like this wouldn’t have air conditioning-at least there’s an air purifier here so maybe I’ll have less of a chance of getting sick from someone else’s germs. Breathe. Breathe again. Slow. Thinking. Thank god they have that no- perfume-no-cologne rule. All I would need is to get stuck next to someone with that old lady perfume on that makes me dizzy sick. I wonder if any of the guys are here to pick up women. Thinking.

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You’ll never be lonely again

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Roberta Gale

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