“I like that.” I smiled. “I think that’s a good perspective.”
“Great, then I’m sure you’re eager to get started.” WindStar stepped out of the pagoda. “I’ll leave you to it.”
As I watched her walk away, I felt a little abandoned. How was I supposed to handle meditating all alone? Again it ran through my mind that I might just be wasting my time. In my head, I’d envisioned a group chanting and growing together.
Instead, I’d been shuffled off to my own space.
Chapter 5
I sighed and set the blue stone down in front of me. I smiled to myself as I thought about the witty exchange that would be taking place if Blue was actually there with me. I closed my eyes and pictured him sitting across from me for a moment. That was hard to do, since I had no idea what he looked like. Even without a face to visualize, I could feel him there. He would probably make any excuse so that he could to sit next to me. Then I would very casually shift even closer to him.
Sammy! I caught myself before my meditation time turned into a different kind of fantasy. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the act of meditation. Of course it might have helped if I’d some training on the act of meditation. I didn’t feel very prepared, but I was willing to give it a try.
As I closed my eyes I thought of peaceful things. I thought of babbling brooks. I thought of a puppy running through tall grass. I thought of dandelion tufts blowing away in the wind.
Then I thought about the latest scene that I was working on in my new series—the B.I.G. Girls Club. I began rewriting some of the scene in my head.
That reminded me that I needed to clean my computer screen, which reminded me that I needed to get paper towels—even though Max told me that I really shouldn’t use paper towels to clean the screen, but what did he know, really? He was always telling me what to do when it came to technology. I didn’t have to do things his way. I’d always used paper towels, but then, maybe that was why my computer screen was so streaky, which might be why I thought it was dirty, which distracted me from writing, which was why I hadn’t finished the scene yet that I started rewriting in my head again.
Suddenly I realized that I wasn’t meditating at all.
I was writing, making a shopping list, cleaning, and having a one-sided argument with Max in which he still managed to end up being right. I sighed with frustration. I really wasn’t doing well with the whole meditating thing.
I tried to clear my mind by taking a deep breath. It usually worked to help calm my nerves. However, I wasn’t usually outside in the middle of nature when I did it. So there wasn’t usually a gnat flying right by my nostril at the exact moment that I took the deepest breath through my nose that I could.
I sucked the gnat right up into my nostril, where it promptly made me gag. I opened my mouth in reaction to the gnat’s being in my nose and gulped one down into my throat. I hacked and coughed as I tried to get the bugs out of my mouth and nose.
By the time I was able to stop coughing, I was covered in sweat and ready to pass out rather than meditate. I greedily breathed in bug-free air.
Briefly I worried that the gnat might have laid eggs in my lungs, but I pushed that stressful thought out of my head.
Only then did I realize that I’d probably just disrupted every single person who was trying to meditate.
I stuck my head out through the door of the pagoda. The woman I had seen earlier was still perched on top of her rock. She looked as serene as ever. No one else seemed to have noticed either. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It certainly saved me some embarrassment, but it also left me wondering if anyone would come to my rescue if I’d actually been choking to death.
I shook my head and sat back down. Once I was cross-legged again I tried to clear my thoughts. It was difficult, as I was a little paranoid about gnats.
I remembered when I had been forced to go to camp as a young girl. I didn’t mind nature too much, but I did despise bugs. The very thought of something crawling across my skin was just too much to take.
The more I thought about how much I didn’t like bugs crawling across my skin, the more it felt as if there might be bugs crawling across my skin. I shuddered and wiped at my arms very quickly. There didn’t seem to be any bugs, but just thinking about them was enough to creep me out.
I took another deep breath, but shielded my nostrils with my hand. Then I tried to envision a rainbow. A beautiful peaceful rainbow stretched across a calm sky. The more I thought about the rainbow, the more I wanted one of those rainbow snow cones with the multicolored sugar syrup.
It had been a really long time since I’d had one of those. They were so good on summer days. I loved the way the shaved ice melted on my tongue. It was one of the many treats that I had eliminated when I started my weight loss journey. As I continued to fantasize about snow cones, I realized I had gotten completely off the path to meditation again. I sighed and opened my eyes.
Finally I decided to try using one of the CDs to help quiet my mind. Maybe the background music would allow me to be calm. I leaned over to the radio and looked through the CDs. I found one that looked interesting. It was called Song of the Whales. What could be better for meditation than the natural beauty of a large creature singing? I put in the CD and turned on the radio. Then with a smile of peaceful anticipation I pressed the play button.
Chapter 6
I was immediately bombarded with the loudest whale songs I’d ever heard. Whoever had used the radio last had obviously left the volume turned all the way up. As I hurried to turn it down I couldn’t find the right knob. All of the knobs I twisted only made things worse by making the whale sounds more high-pitched or deeper. I looked for a plug to pull and then realized that I was outside where there were no plugs. The CD player had to be running on batteries. The whale sounds sounded more like a massacre than a peaceful aid.
“Samantha!” WindStar appeared in my pagoda and quickly switched the radio off. She looked very flustered, and nowhere near the peaceful state that I’d seen her in earlier.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I winced. “I was just trying to listen to music and then I couldn’t turn it down and then—”
“It’s okay.” WindStar took a deep breath and smiled at me. “It’s all okay. Just a few kinks to work out. When you first begin meditating, or if you’ve had an especially stressful week, getting to that place of peace can be very difficult. All of these thoughts and distractions pop up.”
“Exactly.” I shook my head. “Every time I close my eyes my mind goes wild.”
“That’s perfectly normal. Just try to remember that you can’t force it. You have to allow it, even invite it. The best way to invite it is in quiet, still space.”
I grimaced. I hadn’t exactly been quiet or still since I’d started meditating. WindStar was kind enough not to point that out.
“Why don’t you try the sand maze? It’s quite soothing—and quiet.”
She smiled again. She smiled far too often. I felt as if she was just being nice. But I did appreciate the effort.
As WindStar stepped out of the pagoda, I peered around her. I noticed that the peaceful woman who had been perched on the top of the rock was limping slowly away from it. I winced and ducked back inside the pagoda before she could see me. I was fairly certain that my loud whales were the reason that she’d fallen off the rock.
Maybe meditation just wasn’t going to work for me.
I sat back down heavily on the cushion that was not so fluffy anymore. I’d expected this task to be so simple, but it was proving to be one of the hardest things that I’d done so far. I felt disappointed as I tugged the sand maze closer to me. I picked up the tiny little rake. I didn’t think that it was going to help me at all, but at least it was something I could do. What disaster could I cause with a sand maze?
I eased the tiny rake along the intricate circular pattern. At first it reminded me of the mazes I would pencil in as a child. Then it reminded me o
f the doodles I would make in the margins of my homework papers. Then it began to make me think of the intricate patterns reflected in all things natural—from the weave of a leaf, to the endless symmetry of a spider web.
As I watched the grains of sand part with the movement of the small rake, I did begin to relax. The visual of creating such tiny movement was enough to keep me focused and begin to ease me into a calmer state. I stopped paying attention to how I was moving the little rake and let it begin to flow into its own path. But the little rake was not as strong as it should have been, or I was pushing a little harder than a little farmer would have been—either way, the rake snapped.
I sighed as I looked at the two pieces of rake. The only thing that I’d found that worked to relax me was gone.
Maybe this was a sign to let me know that my path would always be broken.
I thought of all of the disappointments I’d faced in life. There were quite a few. I had made it my goal not to dwell on the negative anymore, but with a tiny little rake broken in half, what else could I focus on? I felt defeated.
I was just about to give up and walk out when I remembered what Max had said to me. He had asked if I really thought people could change. My pattern had always been to give in and back away when things got tough. That was why I had created the bucket list in the first place—to do all of the things that I’d used my weight as an excuse to avoid.
Now I had the opportunity to give in, or to do the impossible and make a real change. I was faced with a challenge, but instead of trying to solve it, I was ready to run.
The rake had served the purpose of moving the sand. My finger could do the job just as well. I stuck my fingertip into the sand and began to move it slowly through the pattern. It was even more enchanting to feel the sand move beneath my touch. It seemed as if the tiny grains were parting just for me.
As a rush of peace washed over me, I closed my eyes. I didn’t even have to see the maze to follow the pattern. My finger traced the path as if it was drawn by some invisible force. It felt as if something was tickling along the skin of my finger. I smiled at the sensation.
Within moments that tickling sensation gave way to something much different. It became a burning. I tried to ignore it at first. I figured it was jut my body’s way of distracting me. As the burning continued, I recognized it right away. It was a fire ant! I gasped, as I knew that my finger was about to swell up and get pretty angry-looking. I drew my hand back from the sand maze only to discover that there were a dozen ants crawling up my arm underneath the baggy sleeve of my poet’s shirt.
“No!” I shrieked and began smacking at my arm.
Chapter 7
The fire ants didn’t seem to enjoy my attempt at authority. I began to feel burning sensations all over my arm. At this point shrieking was about all I could do. I shrieked and smacked myself. Without consideration for the rest of the people engaged in meditation, I flung off my easily removed poet’s shirt, hoping that I would fling off the fire ants as well.
Then I noticed that they had begun crawling up my legs! I knew within moments they would be encroaching upon a very delicate area where no fire ant should be allowed to roam! In panic, I ran. I ran fast. I ran right through the middle of the open area with no shirt, and quite a gallop in my step.
I was still shrieking and slapping, only now it wasn’t my arms that I was striking. I made it to the waterfall and jumped right into the pond along with all of the beautiful fish. Fire ants are not always appeased by water, but luckily for me, these ants seemed to give up.
I ended up sitting in a perfect lotus position. I released a deep sigh of contentment as the burning began to subside.
“I have to say, that is a brand new way of meditating.” WindStar stood beside the pond with my shirt in her hand. “Although many do enjoy doing it in the nude.”
“I’m sorry. There were fire ants in my—” I stumbled over the final words. “Well—in my pants.”
I had to give WindStar a lot of credit for keeping a straight face as she offered me a hand up. I took it and climbed out of the water. I pulled my shirt on, though it caught on the wooden beads that I was wearing and threatened to strangle me.
WindStar helped me to tug it down.
“I think what you need is a more serene place to meditate. I know the perfect spot. Follow me.”
She began walking up a narrow trail that led into the woods. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to try anything at this point. Was meditation really for me? Was I just someone who could not reach my inner peace no matter how hard I tried?
When we emerged from the tree line there was a small pond in front of us. It was surrounded by reeds and the hanging limbs of willow trees. I had not witnessed anything more beautiful, other than what I’d seen in paintings.
“Wow.”
“I know.” WindStar smiled proudly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I came here when I was about your age. I’d just started on my own path and I’d been feeling very lost. My teacher tried everything with me. She even tried having me stand on my head. But I couldn’t find that calm place inside myself. One day she brought me here and she told me that she would not be back for me until I had found my peace.”
“She left you here?” I gulped back my thoughts on that.
“Yes, she did. I was freaking out a bit, really. I thought I would starve. I thought I would have to survive off berries and pond water. I fretted for about an hour and then I decided to give it a try. It wasn’t long before I found my peaceful place. My teacher never even left. She’d had no intention of going anywhere. She knew that this place was what I needed.”
“That’s a beautiful story.” I sighed as I looked over at the water. “But I’m not sure it will work for me.”
“It may and it may not. But don’t worry, I’ll be back for you.” She gave my arm a light squeeze. “Just allow it, Samantha.”
She walked back through the trees.
For a moment I did panic. I wasn’t sure that I would be able to find my way back to the pagodas and the tall rock. I wasn’t sure that I trusted WindStar to really come back for me.
I began to think that I wasn’t really being given a serene place to meditate. It felt more like I was being quarantined for the sake of the other meditators. It was probably for the best, since I was fairly certain the woman who had fallen off the rock would have to seek some medical treatment.
I walked toward the edge of the pond. In the center was a large flat rock. There were smaller rocks that led out to it. I knew that was where I was supposed to sit. It seemed rather risky to me to walk across slippery rocks, but I knew that I had to try.
Carefully I stepped onto the first one. The water was shallow around it. I could see little tadpoles darting around in it. I moved to the next rock. I braced myself as I stepped out onto the third rock. The water was a little deeper, but still shallow enough that I could easily wade right out if I needed to.
When I reached the large flat rock I found that it was warmed by the sun. Even in the middle of all of the natural beauty, I felt as if I’d failed.
I didn’t think that I was going to be able to meditate. I figured I would just sit there and enjoy the environment until it was time to leave. I was quite disappointed that I hadn’t been able to master the one skill that I was certain could help me get over the barriers of my fear.
I did my best to avoid thinking about it by soaking up the nature around me. I gazed up at the billowing white clouds in the sky. I smiled to myself as I remembered watching the clouds when I was a child.
It had felt innocent then—with the scent of summer on the breeze and the promise of everything and anything stretched out before me. I never thought about being an adult and paralyzed by fear—or being so insecure that I couldn’t make a choice. I never thought about bills, or the pressure of society, or how I would look in a bathing suit. In fact, I didn’t think much of anything as I’d watched those fluffy examples of pe
rfection float by.
Chapter 8
Before I knew it, I was beginning to relax. Then I heard a few birds chirping in the trees. The sound caused a rush of happiness to flood through me. Many of my best memories were punctuated by the sounds of nature, though I hadn’t realized that until just that moment.
My thoughts began to drift away as easily as the clouds floated by. I closed my eyes. The subtle lullaby of the water lapping at the side of the pond filled my senses. It was something I would never have noticed before, but now that I was still and relaxed, it sounded like the meaning of life. There weren’t words to describe what I was experiencing; it was just a deep sense of connection.
At some point I slipped away, into an untethered state where I felt as weightless and free as the clouds above me. It was a feeling similar to when I floated in the water. Only this was a sensation of being completely detached. I was drifting as seamlessly as the clouds.
As I drifted, I heard a faint splashing. Then the splashing sound became louder. I had a slight instinct to open my eyes, but the detached state I was in made me think that all was just fine. It was such a lovely sensation not to be constantly nervous.
When the splashing was so close that it seemed like it was right beside me, I did give in and open my eyes—only everything looked slightly different. It was a little more fuzzy than I recalled. Just in front of me was a little girl wading and splashing through the water. From what I’d seen there were no children at the class. It seemed odd to me that the girl would be out in the middle of nowhere. Some part of me felt as if I was dreaming.
“What are you doing?”
I wasn’t sure if I had actually spoken or not. The little girl turned to look at me with a wide gap-toothed smile. I immediately recognized her. She wasn’t some stranger. She was me. I didn’t know what to think about looking into the eyes of my child self. It was powerful—and a little worrying.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) Page 61
