Meditating on the buttocks...
August 16th 2010 00:26
Being the mother of two small children certainly can take a toll on you in so many ways. You lose sleep, are the last to eat and refereeing fights over one, broken crayon can almost send you to the loony bin.
So in an effort to keep my sanity and not give my children a reason to invite me on the Jerry Springer show one day, I signed up for an eight-week course on meditation.
Upon arriving at the first class I realized that you cannot make assumptions on the types of people who choose to learn this 5000 –year old craft, nor the reasons they do it. The ages ranged from early twenties to sixties, and varied from people needing help with anxiety to one woman saying she just wanted to see what all the hype was about.
So after small introductions and a few tips on how to deal with the inevitable mind chatter awaiting us as we started our new journey, our instructor informed us she would be helping us by doing a guided meditation of the body.
As we sat in our meditative positions and listened to her calm, soothing voice saying, “Head...eyes...mouth...neck.. .” I realized I was breathing deeply, calmly falling into the sound of her voice as I imagined energy moving from one part to the next and so on.
This was easier than I had imagined. I was able to stay focused and move through my body imagining the healing light enveloping every cell. Until...
“Chest...stomach...BUTTOCKS.” I stifled a giggle.
I slightly opened up one eye just to see if anyone else had noticed how funny the word “buttocks” sounds when everything else in the room in silent. No one even appeared to be anything but Zen.
“Okay, you can do this,” I thought. “Do not embarrass yourself over the word ‘buttocks’.” I begged myself.
“Feet...ankles, lower leg, thigh...”
“Here it comes again,” I thought.
“BUTTOCKS.”
I bit my lip and blew a small laugh out of my nose. All I could think was that although getting the giggles feels great to the person who gets them, you always look a tad insane to those who have to witness it.
Thankfully before I could worry about losing it worse, the meditation was over. So I’m no Dalai Lama, but then again, maybe he’s never heard the word “buttocks”.
image credit: Really Long Link
So in an effort to keep my sanity and not give my children a reason to invite me on the Jerry Springer show one day, I signed up for an eight-week course on meditation.
Upon arriving at the first class I realized that you cannot make assumptions on the types of people who choose to learn this 5000 –year old craft, nor the reasons they do it. The ages ranged from early twenties to sixties, and varied from people needing help with anxiety to one woman saying she just wanted to see what all the hype was about.
So after small introductions and a few tips on how to deal with the inevitable mind chatter awaiting us as we started our new journey, our instructor informed us she would be helping us by doing a guided meditation of the body.
As we sat in our meditative positions and listened to her calm, soothing voice saying, “Head...eyes...mouth...neck.. .” I realized I was breathing deeply, calmly falling into the sound of her voice as I imagined energy moving from one part to the next and so on.
This was easier than I had imagined. I was able to stay focused and move through my body imagining the healing light enveloping every cell. Until...
“Chest...stomach...BUTTOCKS.” I stifled a giggle.
I slightly opened up one eye just to see if anyone else had noticed how funny the word “buttocks” sounds when everything else in the room in silent. No one even appeared to be anything but Zen.
“Okay, you can do this,” I thought. “Do not embarrass yourself over the word ‘buttocks’.” I begged myself.
“Feet...ankles, lower leg, thigh...”
“Here it comes again,” I thought.
“BUTTOCKS.”
I bit my lip and blew a small laugh out of my nose. All I could think was that although getting the giggles feels great to the person who gets them, you always look a tad insane to those who have to witness it.
Thankfully before I could worry about losing it worse, the meditation was over. So I’m no Dalai Lama, but then again, maybe he’s never heard the word “buttocks”.
image credit: Really Long Link
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