So. Went to my second ever meditation class today (apart from the ones I was dragged to as a mewling infant by my lovely, hippy mother - who I think probably hoped to create a calm, centred child. Ha). The first one was a bit of a wash-out - I was dosed up with Lorazepam and anti-nausea pills, so had weird awake dreams, and totally passed out at one point. Tres embarrassing.
Today was more successful. The class was led by a man with the most absurdly deep voice I have ever heard. With eyes closed it was as though a reincarnated, spiritual Barry White had spurned vajajay in favour of incense, and was gently stroking our fevered brows with his voice. But the guy next to me was breathing so loudly (I mean, *really* over the top), so I was having very non-Buddhist feelings about him, and another woman obviously had forgotten to have a tofu energy ball before she came, and her digestive sounds were echoing around the room pretty much constantly, so more non-compassionate feelings there, whoops.
BUT, despite all that, I felt pretty amazing, and pretty calm, which is pretty, pretty rare for me. So thank you Barry - can't get enough of your (all-encompassing, compassionate, wish-fulfilling) love. I'll be on some mountain-top in Nepal before you know it...(but what if I got altitude sickness? Or was allergic to yak milk? Or looked terrible without hair? Or got some horrendous disease and couldn't be airlifted back to civilisation? Shit...)
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