Over the years, it has often been suggested that someone like me would benefit from meditation. I suspect this has something to do with my nonstop foot tapping and finger drumming. My friend Adele insists that a mere 20 minutes of meditation every morning would clear my mind and provide deep happiness.
After doing a quick time-benefit analysis, weighing the 20 minutes of Morning Joe I’d miss, I still wasn’t convinced. But I signed up for a one-hour class anyway.
It began with a gong. I followed the teacher’s instructions to sit cross-legged, keep my posture straight and place my right hand in my left, palms up. Next, set my intention. Easy: to get Adele off my back.
First, I needed to be mindful of my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I felt as if we’d been there for days. I peeked at my watch. Five minutes had passed.
I wondered where all these tranquil women had come from. I’d certainly never seen them at the Saks handbag sale. I also wondered where the lady in front of me had her hair cut, if I’d set my DVR for The Millionaire Matchmakerand whether there was a drugstore nearby.
It was time to come up with our personal mantras. None felt quite right.
Yi yi yiiiii.
Ha ha haaaa.
I thought about my dinner options. Tuna sandwich? Pizza? Chicken? I chose pizza. I visualized myself on a mountaintop. I visualized myself on the bus home. Until, at last, the gong show ended.
I doubted I’d be back. Did I have any regrets? Yes—I decided I should probably have the chicken.
Want MORE great like this one? Sign up for our free weekly newsletter here.