The online dictionary defines meditation in this way: to engage in thought or contemplation; reflect. So, given the challenges I've been experiencing with my aging brain, I thought I could use some help with that. I signed up for a meditation class.
And I took a friend with me. She's about my age, so I assumed she needed it too. Turns out she'd done some of this engaging-in-thought thing before, so she had an edge. I was concerned she'd show me up, and, as it turned out, she did. But more on that later.
First I want to tell you that this friend -- I'll call her Sunny, for reasons I will soon shed light on -- and I have a long history of finding hilarity in inappropriate situations. One example would be the time Sunny and I went to some Weight Watchers meetings together. We were both comfortable with being under-achievers there. Neither of us had much weight to lose, just a smattering of pounds we'd gained during the holidays and wanted to take off before swimsuit weather. So our bar was already low and our personalities already sort of snarky, and I guess our demeanor reflected that. We were hands-down the class clowns, snickering at all the goofy little hints and tips and double entendres of the world of weight loss. Well okay, maybe the double entendres were our doing. They ended up being our UNdoing, too, as far as having the nerve to go back after one night of particularly bad behavior. I mean, when they started talking about organ meats, it was all over.
Ergo, my concern about going to the meditation class together. What I didn't factor in was our maturity. The Weight Watchers debacle had happened 15 years ago, and we were more mature now ... or maybe just duller witted. Maybe we had a prayer of navigating this class without offending our classmates or ticking the instructor off.
And I'm happy to report that our behavior was exemplary. In fact, one might even say Sunny qualified as Teacher's Pet. She performed all her meditative exercises so well and answered questions regarding her experience so eloquently that the teacher told her she was "like a bright light." She even took a break from the instructing I paid good money for, to further gush that Sunny was clearly a very nurturing person who did "so much to help others." Sunny beamed back at her with that stupid bright light of hers.
Wonk.
By the way, the teacher's sole assessment of me was that I was "organic." Organic? Really?? What exactly did she mean by that? That I wasn't glowing like a radioactive ninny; that I wasn't sucking up enough? That I had the odor of decay?? Well, pooh on her!
In response, I just smiled and said, "Oh." Guess I told HER!
Is that what maturity does? Taking a perfectly snide, hilarious person and turning her nice and no fun? Well then, I'm not having any of it. I'll keep my childishness, thank you very much.
And as far as my relationship with Sunny is concerned, I'm going to give her a second chance. I'm going to sign us both up for Kickboxing lessons, and if she doesn't make some reference to her opponent's organ meats, we're finished.
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