Wednesday, 29 February 2012


It's fair to say my first experience of meditation wasn't a great one. I wore just the right amount of wool for a totnes evening class and everything, but I think I attended the class expecting tantric relaxation and actually found the whole experience a bit frustrating.
I want to learn how to relax, I really do. I'm a busy type with my mind hopping from one not so important concern to the next and I'd love to learn how to switch off the thinking part of my brain and just 'be' every once in a while.
I suspect my compadre for the evening was thinking too much too. She admitted to adding up the admission fee multiplied by the number of participants and coming to the conclusion that we were all paying too much for 8 minutes of silence and an hour and a half of buddhist philosophy taught to us in stunted sentences.
I actually agree with what was being taught. Love is good. Jealousy, attachment and anger are bad. I'm fine with that, but I want to learn to sit so still my mind flies out of my body and is only brought back to consciousness when a small bird lands on my head (i read somewhere this is the ultimate in stillness).
Anyway, it was all too reminiscent of attending church as a child with my slightly pissed grandad at his tiny rural highland church, with him slipping off the pew and getting the giggles. The topic all too obvious and the temptation to start fidgeting in my chair was too much. My friend whispered 'I don't think this is for me', careful not to offend me as I clearly had my 'hmm, how very interesting' face on.

We left and saught solice in a large glass of sauvignon blanc.

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