Did I mention I did a meditation course?

So

I needed a reset. Not depressed. Not sad. Not confused. Just needed the world to stop for a bit so I can get my shit straight. By getting my shit straight I mean I needed to meditate my ovaries back into producing estrogen. And I thought if something else is broken that I’m not aware of, it can get repaired as well - killing 2 birds with one stone you know.

So

I decided a 10 day silent “retreat” was the answer. (I used the word “retreat” as explanation to my family before I left to not sound new-agey or like a fucking hippy.) It’s a course. No retreat in sight. No electronics, no meat, no eye-contact, no books, no pens, no paper, no smiling. Just you and your sweatpants, a crappy mattress and peeling paint in the bathroom. I didn’t pack mine, but some folks packed their silent-meditation-faces as well. Especially the 20-somethings crowd. Suppose there was a past viral TikTok thing teaching them how to. “Take a deep breath, relax your face, now think of John Wick’s puppy.” That’s it, that’s the face.

So

My daily thought patterns went something like this:

Day 1: What in the actual fuck. Why is there a woman here who has done this course 55 (FIFTY FIVE!!!!) times. Aren’t you supposed to walk away happier after 10 days with the tools to stay that way? Is she maybe homeless and this is her long term plan? (You can attend for free, and donate afterwards whatever you’re able to… loophole…) Why is the teacher overweight? I’ve never met an overweight happy person. NEVER. Is he eating his feelings? Fuck this place. I’m just going to wing it for the next 9 days.

4 hours later (after a very informative video): Okay, I’ll give this a shot.

Day 2: I’ve got this. This whole “law of nature” thing is kicking ass and taking names.

Day 3: Still got this. Although… images of a big juicy rib-eye steak and a glass of red (like really red) wine has been popping up in my very calm brain.

Day 4: Furious. Irate. Livid. Fuck vegetarians. Do you know how many fucking animals you kill tilling the soil to plant your fucking broccoli. Fuck the steep concrete pathway I’m walking on 1000 times a day to get to the meditation hall. Fuck these men (yes Buddha, you) trying to tell me it’s not good for my happiness to like my gorgeous green couch. Mrs Peacock likes Mr Peacock because HE IS PRETTY! Us girls like pretty things!! How about that “law of nature” for you!!! I’m planning a revenge plot in a parallel universe where I'm single and wild. Because I told you, you horrible woman, more than once - if a girl should ever fuck with me, I’ll fuck her husband. You wasted 6 years of my friendship. You fat fucking narcissist. Oh yes, there it is. Something broken. That’s a blog for another day. But okay, I see you, you little shithead.

3 hours later (lying on a cement slab to rest my back, looking up in awe at the rain clouds playing above me): I would rather do this for the next 6 days. And this will probably be the stand-out-moment of the 10 days. (It was).

Day 5: I’ve got this again.

Day 6: Hmmmmm, got it. But might go off it soon.

Day 7: I think I’m a bit too happy for this. An option to leave after Day 7 sounds like a really good plan right about now. I’m way too happy for this place.

Day 8: Definitively going to wing the next 2 days. I think about selling a kidney for a pair of earphones and a playlist. I plan my Christmas party from menu to decor to guests to music. Check.

Day 9: Winging it like a champ. Coming to the full realisation that I’ve been meditating without meditating for the past 20 years simply by sticking to my 5 mantras:

1 - What is the purpose of life? Happiness. So make sure you choose the happy option. Always.

2 - Everything happens for a reason

3 - Positive thoughts; positive thoughts

4 - Respect. Everything.

5 - This too shall pass

Day 10: Silence is over. Phones are returned. Oh good lord, please let us be silent again. I thought the 20-somethings were supposed to have no social skills. But behold, they’re loud and proud and very chuffed with their newly enlightened status. And they’re telling the world. Sorry for those still processing some tough experiences they just had, but the youngsters have imaginary friends to impress. Whoop, there it is. Nevermind. Social skills non-existent again.

4 hours later: Why the fuck are we still here.

Day 11: In my car. Windows down. Radio on. Folder: FEB 2025. Track: 4. Volume: 48

I'm just sitting on your front porch
Wondering how could I be so far from my home

And my mind is somewhere else
But when I find it I'll patch up where it's been blown…

Oh yesssssssssssss. I'm happy.