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The following morning, I arrive right on time for the 4:00 AM meditation session which al-
ways starts the day here. We are meant to sit for an hour in silence, but I log the minutes as if
they are miles—sixty brutal miles that I have to endure. By mile/minute fourteen, my nerves
have started to go, my knees are breaking down and I’m overcome with exasperation. Which
is understandable, given that the conversations between me and my mind during meditation
generally go something like this:
Me: OK, we’re going to meditate now. Let’s draw our attention to our breath and focus on
the mantra. Om Namah Shivaya. Om Namah Shiv—
Mind: I can help you out with this, you know!
Me: OK, good, because I need your help. Let’s go. Om Namah Shivaya. Om Namah Shi—
Mind: I can help you think of nice meditative images. Like—hey, here’s a good one. Ima-
gine you are a temple. A temple on an island! And the island is in the ocean!
Me: Oh, that is a nice image.
Mind: Thanks. I thought of it myself.
Me: But what ocean are we picturing here?
Mind: The Mediterranean. Imagine you’re one of those Greek islands, with an old Greek
temple on it. No, never mind, that’s too touristy. You know what? Forget the ocean. Oceans
are too dangerous. Here’s a better idea—imagine you’re an island in a lake, instead.
Me: Can we meditate now, please? Om Namah Shiv—