A bass drum thrummed like a heartbeat behind the wall next door.
No big deal. There were only twenty of us, sitting on the other side, in lotus, attempting to meditate.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Is that Drake? I wondered for a hot sec.
I’ve participated in that Sunday morning, nine-thirty meditation for six months now and this was the first time the thump thump “music” had encroached.
Huh. Interesting.
That wasn’t the only thing that was different.
Laurie, our usual teacher, and the ONLY one I’ll go to because she isn’t twenty-two, with a Valley Girl accent, spray tan, and a whopping year and a half of mediation under her Gucci belt—was absent.
In other words—there was a sub.
I tried my best not to get all twitchy, but I’m not a fan of substitute anything.
I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, Veggie burgers, Vegan cheese—just to name just a few.
I could feel the anger rise up inside me. My ears caught fire and I started clenching my jaw like I was arguing a case before the Supreme Court. “Your honor, YOU can’t handle the truth!”
In other words, I was losing my shit—in meditation class. Which translates, in every language known to man and some that aren’t, as an “epic fail”.
Every fiber of my being wanted to jump to my feet—flip a table—start a fire—spill hot coffee—and then race to my car.
Repressed rage, party of one?
‘There’s a reason Laurie’s not here,’ the calmer, less violent part of me reasoned as it gorilla glued my butt to the cushion. ‘Stay and figure it out
Maybe this woman will be good.
Maybe you’ll learn something.
She’s just different, not BAD.’
Fine. You win. (But insert resting bitch face here.)
So I did. And she was, maybe not better, but really, really good.
Then, in the middle, just when I’d started to drool, the thump thump began.
Huh. Interesting. Drool.
Seriously? Drool.
I’m so glad I’m in here and not in…drool.
When we came out of mediation, the first thing Kim, the sub, remarked on was the thump thump.
“Does this always happen?” she asked the class. Half shook their heads no, while the other half said yes, which wasn’t true, but that’s what happens when you ask a group of people to weigh in on anything.
“Because I have a thing with ambient music,” Kim-The-Sub confessed, ratting herself out.
Oh, really? Over the years I’ve struggled with the frustration that comes from trying to meditate in a city like LA. Don’t get me started on leaf blowers!
Anyway, I could relate so I went full meerkat.
“Ever since a Buddhist retreat in 1999 (okay, how much do I LOVE that not only was she was alive in 1999—she was at a meditation retreat!) music seems determined to interrupt my meditation. From jinky Tibetan street music, to heavy metal, to the ice cream truck, it’s all out to get me!”
Makes sense, right? That explained why that strange thump, thump tried to interrupt our class for the first time in well, ever.
Because just like the rest of us, Kim brings herself wherever she goes! She has her narrative—about annoying music— complete with traveling evidence!
Can I get an amen? Because, I mean, who doesn’t love proof of the obsurd fact that we bring our shit wherever we go?
I’m feeling warm fuzzies for Kim-The-Sub who may have just rocketed to the top of my list of favorite meditation teachers.
I’m thinkin’ she’s a keeper.
Carry on,
xox
