Connor and Aiyanna sat on a rolled out blue and green,
yellow striped fabric. Connor folded his legs indian-style to follow Aiyanna’s
lead.
Aiyanna placed her
folded hands on her lap as she closed her eyes. As the wind flowed against her
bangs and swayed her braids, Connor stared at her. She looked so beautiful, at
peace, calm, relaxed.
Meditating, right,
Connor thought. He folded his hands on his legs and, after admiring her beauty
for a while, closed his own eyes.
Connor had had
meditated a few times in his life, when he felt his life was off-balance and needed
time to center himself to get back in focus on who he really was. It stopped
the world. Nothing could ruin the moment. It was all his. The constant nagging
of technology, the notifications of his turned off cell phone could not stop
it. He no longer felt the compulsive need to browse the internet, watch t.v.,
or play video games: All he needed was himself. The constant attempts of life and
everything in it clamoring for his attention—advertisements trying to convince
him to buy their products; news stories informing him about every single bit of
important information for that day; social media feeds, of people writing about
their lives and companies and magazines trying to get his attention for their
products and articles so he will share, like, and comment as if his one voice
actually mattered and as if everyone actually cared about what he’d comment, all
of it scrolling through his brightly lit screen; emails filling up his inbox desperately
wanting read; his emotions signaling him how alone he is; his needing to go to
the gym to get muscular so the women will become more attracted to him by
loving his bod; his boss wanting him to take an extra shift because someone
called off when he never called off; his YouTube fans begging for more videos
or that one who complains how he messed his video up; his school homework and
tests marking his wrongness eternally onto paper, letting him know how wrong he
was and how much more right he could have been; his father telling him he was
never good enough; his brother begging him to play with him; the rushing of
traffic and cars hostilely cutting him off in a hurry; his ambitions burning at
him to become a better and more famous YouTuber, never having enough likes,
comments, views, or subscribers, and feeling the need to record parts of his
life so life wouldn’t forget about him when he was dead like it did so many of
the other billions of animals and humans; his feeling the intense, imperative
need of improving his overall life, like climbing up the social ladder,
acquiring more money so he could buy nicer things, earning that college degree
certifying that he passed all of the necessary but arbitrary requirements,
living up to the impossibly lofty but contradictory expectations of women; his knowing
that he will never, ever be good enough for life and everything in it—all of it
fell away and disappeared.
Poof.
Like magic.
Best magic trick
ever, he thought. Thank god, it feels nice. He felt his body relax instantly,
his trapezius muscles and upperback loosening. Connor breathed in deeply, for
one, two, three, four, five, six seconds, and then breathed out deeply, for
one, two, three, four, five, six seconds—just as how he was taught by a
mediating app on his smartphone. And he smiled. He didn’t mean to. But he did.
Connor felt the
weight of his body, scanning it from head to toe, becoming aware of it,
becoming aware of how he felt, becoming aware of his breathing, becoming aware
of his thoughts, becoming aware that he was in control of everything, becoming
his own God.
Man, he forgot how
much he missed meditating. He liked to think that he was rewiring the brain the
way he wanted, instead of life and everything in it taking control of his brain,
as if he were an animal—specifically, a monkey—in a science experiment,
scientists testing how they could get him to act a certain way, or seeing how
he’d act under particular situations, or how they could achieve the desired
outcome with the procedures they put him through.
I’m no fucking
monkey, he thought to himself. I’m an intelligent human-fucking being.
Man, that really
hit a nerve.
Crap, Connor
thought, unaware that his thoughts were already pulling at him. He brought
himself back and cleared his mind. And he enjoyed silence.
Then if a thought
came, he let the mind think if it wanted to think. He thought if Aiyanna liked
him or not. What a stupid thought, he thought to himself. Was he really going
to let an intelligent human being like himself succumb to these stupid, petty
human desires? he wondered. But he is human after all. There’s nothing he can
do if he likes a girl or not. Because he is a human, he knew that emotions were
his brain’s way of trying to tell him something. But because his brain felt it,
because it triggered that emotion, does it mean it’s right? Would it be wrong
to override it? Can he even override it? Emotions ruined his thinking. He hated
that. But he knew they had a role in the intellect too.
Stop, he thought, I’m
thinking too much. He pulled his thoughts back once again, clearing his mind.
And then he thought
again, about going through life, it being like prey versus predator. And life
having no rules—only power. Power represented the correct rule. Which meant he
had little power, because rules pulled him this way and that each day.
Grr, Connor thought
in frustration, pulling himself back to peace and focusing on silence. His mind
really liked to think.
He took a
frustrated breath and opened his eyes, and saw Aiyanna’s face composed,
representing complete peace and beauty. It put him in a trance, and calmed him
down. He stared at her a while longer. Gosh, he thought, he could stare at her
all day. He smiled, and closed his eyes.
I wonder what she’s
been thinking the whole time, he thought, or not thinking.
Aiyanna was happy
to lead the meditation, noticing that Connor followed suit without word or
complaint. She peeked at him by opening her eyes slightly, and saw him staring
at her. She kept her face composed despite this. She peeked again later and saw
his eyes closed.
Good, she thought.
At least he wouldn’t be staring at her the whole time while she meditated.
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