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Namaste, bitches

meditationI have a racing mind. Always have. At different times of my life I have it more under control. I have learned to harness and channel it temporarily, and then eventually the tamed creature breaks out of the cage and runs amok. And I find myself up at 1:31 am, typing. I’ve read the science. And I’ve experienced the feeling, the knowing that all this mental effluvia is fleeting and we ought not let it direct us in undue ways.

Tomorrow is my initiation into a new meditation technique. I dare not identify it by name … don’t want to sic their Google alerts on me. It’s the one that Howard and the Twin Peaks guy espouse, and Stevie Wonder sang about. Have I been sucked in by its marketing hype? Perhaps. But I remain ever the skeptic and shall not be a fawning follower of anything that doesn’t serve me.

I’ve tried other forms of meditation, but have not been able to practice consistently over time. The appeal for me is the clinical, practical. The absence of religion. And the fact that it can empower you to use it anywhere at any time. You don’t need fancy pillows, malas or anything material.

Meditation is not about trappings or style or any of the myriad ways the world has commercialized it. It’s ancient wisdom designed to reveal the best of humanity. It does the kind of good for the mind that Yoga does for the body. Or so it claims to. We’ll see!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQbnjo3vxrw

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