I relax my neck and shoulders because she tells me to.
I try to make the back of the inside of my mouth smile like she instructs. I have no idea what
that means, but I feel like I'm nailing it.
Finally, she tells us to let go and just be.
I breathe slowly, and my eyes relax to half-mast.
I stare down at my Reebok mat,
Focusing serenely on its grey surface.
…
…
but there's a texture I never noticed.
Millions of tiny squares in rows and columns.
…
…
Just breathe, she reminds us.
…
...
Okay yeah, I'll breathe but also, I am thinking about rows and columns and about Keanu in The Matrix in that drawer thing, in that tower of hundreds of squares in rows and columns in a tower of humans who were all unconscious and plugged into the matrix.
My eyelids are no longer at half-mast.
Keanu was so pale and cold and bald. And there was so much Vienna sausage jelly around him.
Just breathe, she says--
Right, but listen, I mean I know why the jelly, preservation and what not,
but why not water? He was breathing through that tube.
She rings the mindfulness bell.
The meditation is over because supposedly, we are now relaxed and ready for the day.
I am cold.
I want sausage.
I pat my head and tops of my arms, and am thankful for my hair and jellyless skin.
I let go and just am.
