Meditational Disaster

Please, on an average day – do NOT come and talk to me about the concept of ‘feeling’ energy. Or aura’s. Don’t preach to me about prayer, or mindfulness or *gasp* meditation. That whole floating bubble of illusion (or hallucinations), feelings and ‘getting in touch with your inner warrior’ is not my cuppa tea. At all. AT ALL. The most I’ll do is throw in a hefty facepalm and a breathless laughter at the sillyness of it all when it comes to me partaking in such things. I just….can’t.

If they work for you – have at it my dear lady (or sir). But that’s a boat I’m not getting on board of.

HOWEVER.
I AM the type of girl that says ‘I’ll try anything. Twice. (just in case the first time was a bust or a fluke, yaknow).’ So naturally, I HAVE downloaded a couple of those ‘breathing’ mindfulness-apps (turns out, I’m a pretty adequate breather on my own). Tried my hand at meditative yoga (which is not meant for hypermobile bodies, seeing as I’d have to re-insert my dislocated hip halfway through most sessions). AND turn up a ‘night sounds’ Spotify playlist to help soothe my nights (THAT actually works. Thank the lordy).

This playlist addiction came about after I discovered a guided meditation thingy on Youtube that I ACTUALLY connected to. One that describes visuals that I relate to and that has my imagination drifting off into a soothing sleep. Relaxing. Peaceful. Calming. UNTIL LAST NIGHT.

This dude is actually quite great, in other situations!

Imagine that it’s 3 a.m., after you’ve seen the clock turn to 1, and 2 and then 3, without your head seeming to be willing to make any attempt at dozing off (bastard!). Those are the times for desperate measures, so I got myself up out of bed and went and made some warm honeyed milk (that’s one of those inventions better than sliced bread) which I drank perched upside down on the couch, staring at the shiny balls on the Christmas tree (the world looks so different when you’re upside down, and I’m just weird like that). All good, so far.

Then all of a sudden it’s 3:30 and I figured that sleep is really a must-have if my brain has to actually work in the morning, so I hopped back up, discard the empty glass and scurried over to the toilet for a pre-bed visit (nothing sucks as much as having to get back up after you just buried yourself into a blanketnest).

BOOM. A male voice suddenly starts talking. In my man-less house. 3:30 in the morning. While I’m on a toilet in…not exactly a lot of clothing….ALONE. I don’t have to explain to you how my heart shot STRAIGHT into my throat. How I froze on the spot, panic gripping my heart and stealing my breath. Trying to figure out how to react, what to do, WHAT WAS HAPPENING. Fear striking in the most absolute of ways – nightmares coming true in front of my eyes. Ragged breaths, everything.

An adrenaline spike the likes of which has never been seen at this particular hour of night overcame me, and I was pondering if exiting a toilet, scantily clad, during a home invasion would be a smart move and whether I could get to my baseball bat in time. And just as I’d dedicated myself to that goal, the guy continued speaking:

‘Much of this meditation has to do with your subconscious mind.’

GODDAMMIT JASON.
Turns out that casually tossing your phone on the bed MIGHT (and will) pop up your Youtube to the ‘sweet soothing words’ of Jason unknowingly. Who WILL speak his sweet nothings and scare the LIVING DAYLIGHTS out of poor innocent girls with a bit of insomnia.

I’m pretty sure my towering adrenaline levels (and another 2 hours of not being able to sleep because of that) were NOT the goal of that particular guided meditation. Guess who’s getting deleted from my ‘play later’ Youtube list?!

Ps. Laughing is said to be healthy. Looking back on it now – I’m having a very very healthy day thanks to this nightly insanity. I’m such an idiot sometimes!

Pps. I’m SO TIRED OH MY GOD!