Meditation Experiment, Part Deux

I can't remember when I took my first vedic meditation course in the City—I'm sure it's documented on this blog somewhere—but shortly thereafter I gave up on it. I can't even pinpoint what it was that got me off track, but knowing me it probably went something like... I was following the method to a T, then one day I had to skip a session for some random reason, and it made it easier to skip it again the next time, and so on and so forth. Then I probably told myself, "Meh, how do we know it even works?" as a way to justify quitting. Also, I never bothered to regulate my god-awful sleeping habits, and that alone makes it so hard to maintain any type of real time management system or healthy livng practice. 

In fact, I'm typing these very words at 2:08 am knowing full well I promised to make breakfast for my niece and nephew (in about four hours) so now I have to pull an all-nighter or risk breaking a promise to my babies and to their parents (who will potentially get to sleep in for a little bit while I cover morning eats).

But let's make believe that this time I've learned my lesson, that I'm actually taking that Brain Damage warning seriously, and that I'm going to take my brain health more seriously moving forward. 

Let's watch me attempt to take up vedic meditation again for the umpteenth time.

I'm sure the good people at the New York Meditation Center, where I studied, are sick of my, "I want to come back to the fold," emails, because frankly I never follow through. Part of what keeps me away is that I have this narrative in my head that there are more important or pressing things I need to be focused on just to survive my day-to-day, instead of sitting quietly for twenty minutes, twice daily. 

Because, when we really get down to it, Quiet is my enemy. I don't do anything quietly. I play lo-fi beats to do any task that requires concentration. I listen to audiobooks while I do chores around the house, run errands, or make dinner. I keep the TV on as my emotional support white noise in the background, while I'm "falling asleep." I carry on conversations with my shampoo bottles in the shower. Quiet, to me, equals death.

In the Quiet is where my spiral lives, because that's where The Voices let me know about all the dumb shit I continue to do to ruin my own life and the lives of the people in my vicinity. And who wants to hear that day in and day out? I'd much rather listen to Karol G crush on another girl's man, or solve sex crimes with Ice-T. My LITERAL nightmare is having to exist in a QUIET PLACE scenario. Just kill me instead.

However, brain health, right? Right. So let's try again, again, thusly:

My main obstacle to this great plan being me, of course, because I have to be OK if every day doesn't look like this. I'm not in the army; I don't have to be so strict with myself and my time. I can wing it some days, maybe. I hope. Listen, this is an experiment, like this whole existence is an experiment, to see if my next 50-ish years can be better than the first, or if old bitches can actually learn new tricks, or if I can regulate my sleep, or if I can avoid The Brain Damage as I age.

What could possibly go wrong?

Love & Balls,
Jaded
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i played the powerless in too many dark scenes,
and I was blessed with a birth and a death,
and I guess I just wanted some say in between.