Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 68

           

           IsharedtheofficewithafunnyformerMadisonAvenuehairdresser.We’ddoourmorningprayerstogetherallalone,justthetwoofussingingourhymntoGod.

           "Thinkwecouldpickupthetempoonthishymntoday?"askedthehairdresseronemorning."Andmayberaiseittoahigheroctave?SoIdon’tsoundlikeaspiritualversionofCountBasie?"

           I’mgettingalotoftimealoneherenow.I’mspendingaboutfourorfivehourseverydayinthemeditationcaves.Icansitinmyowncompanyforhoursatatimenow,ateaseinmyownpresence,undisturbedbymyownexistenceontheplanet.Sometimesmymeditationsaresurrealandphysicalexperiencesofshakti-allspine-twisting,blood-boilingwildness.Itrytogiveintoitwithaslittleresistanceaspossible.OthertimesIexperienceasweet,quietcontentment,andthatisfine,too.Thesentencesstillforminmymind,andthoughtsstilldotheirlittleshow-offdance,butIknowmythoughtpatternssowellnowthattheydon’tbothermeanymore.Mythoughtshavebecomelikeoldneighbors,kindofbothersomebutultimatelyratherendearing-Mr.andMrs.Yakkity-Yakandtheirthreedumbchildren,Blah,BlahandBlah.Buttheydon’tagitatemyhome.There’sroomforallofusinthisneighborhood.

           Asforwhateverotherchangesmayhaveoccurredwithinmeduringtheselastfewmonths,perhapsIcan’tevenfeelthemyet.MyfriendswhohavebeenstudyingYogaforalongtimesayyoudon’treallyseetheimpactthatanAshramhashadonyouuntilyouleavetheplaceandreturntoyournormallife.

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