I meditate in public now. I used to be afraid. What’s up with the weird guy with his eyes closed?
I don’t care anymore.
Every Friday afternoon my son takes an occupational therapy class. The waiting room is carpeted dysregulation; toys, building blocks, all strewn everywhere, sounds of a kid yelling about tying his own shoelaces, I don’t want to!
Most of the parents sit on their phones scrolling, endless small screen scrolling. That is the normal thing to do, the socially acceptable thing to do, but I hate my phone. If it weren’t for the GPS I’d probably go back to one that flips.
I used to dread the waiting room, but now I place my hands on my lap, set a timer for 30 or 40 minutes, sit and focus on my breath. People come and go around me, their movement like rain fading into the background. Perhaps they glance at me, watch me, I don’t know, I don’t see.
I look forward to OT now, more minutes to meditate, to just be.