Right Humility

“Meditation...makes the art of doing absolutely nothing seem quite respectable.”

OMG!! Please, no! Not now. Not here. My eyes start to water. The tickle inches up my nasal cavity. I try to control my nose with telekinesis, without success. Ok, so that’s a bunch of hogwash, I tell myself. Concentrate… and maybe the sneeze will just retreat into the diaphragm or wherever it comes from. Chest? Throat?
Distraction may work. It didn’t. Holding my breath may work. It just provoked the nasal mucosa – getting technical here - into a savage rage.

The convulsive explosion that follows comes charging at a velocity a BMW on the autobahn couldn’t rival. The Achoo! reverberates throughout the cavernous Ocean of Peace Community Hall. One sneeze follows another, each one outdoing the other, both in speed and sound. I cannot hear my friends, but can sense the repressed giggles and had to admire their restraint – an alien concept for them.

The meditation continues.

My butt is now in an Ocean of Pain and each time I maneuver myself on the little beanie pillow, five hundred pins and needles pierce my bony behind. I think of acupuncture; I imagine Bhishma Pitama lying on a bed of arrows and feel his pain.

There is a fierce revolt going on in my legs that want to stretch, knees that long to crack, and a spinal column that needs to straighten. The bottom is long since dead and offers no protest.

I twist my wrist in slo-mo, bend my head, slyly cock one eye open and look at my watch. FIFTEEN more minutes? How is this even possible?

I look at the stationary, smooth, bald heads of the Sisters sitting in the row before me: restful, still, calm… Oceans of Serenity. How do they do it? I wonder. Years of practice, is how: I answer my own question. Envy turns to jealously, which turns to resentment.

Wait! Am I not here to practice the Eightfold Path? I think I just broke four of them:
Right Thought – I begrudge the Sisters their serenity.
Right Action – I don’t want to sit. I want to stand, to stretch, to scream.
Right Concentration – It’s hard to focus when I am paralyzed waist down.
Right Effort – I cannot stop fidgeting and sneezing is a bit out of my control.

What are the others? Right Something and Right Something Else. As I rack my brain, the gong is rung. It’s over!! Too bad I can’t do whistles and cartwheels to go with the bell.

The Sisters stretch their feet forward and scratch their bald heads feverishly. I stare in awe. Well! Holy Buddha! Would ya take a look at that! They had transcended every desire to itch for over an hour. A Right Smack in the rear is what I deserve.

Everyone stands. Hands together, I bow low to the Sisters, to my friends, to the Buddha. I walk out of the Ocean of Peace Community Hall, head inclined, not only with Right Humility, but with Burning Shame.