Living on a Prayer (Part 5) Final Episode

Rick came creeping up on the scene in desert camo. The townsfolk were still gathered around the burrow both curious about the interaction of the two groups of dogs under their feet and yet worried about the sick ones. Some were on their knees praying.

“They ain’t talking to the real God. The real God wants ‘em dead” Rick said as he spat on the ground.

*          *          *           *         *          *

“Hey Timmy, I´m going to nose around outside and see if I can find anything out” Clapper said.

“Those people are still out there, they might hurt you” he answered.

“No, they brought us here. From what I gather, they’re on your side, but I am still not 100% sure”

*          *           *           *           *          *

Clapper snuck out a rear hole. He immediately smelled traces of the poison in the air. He couldn´t pinpoint the source of the smell but it was surely not coming from the mass of the townsfolk gathered around the burrow. He picked up a strong scent and followed it to some shrubs around 30 yards from where they were. He found a scraggly man hiding out in the bushes in a prone position. The smell was surely coming from him.

Clapper snuck up from behind the man and with ferocious speed, bit off a chunk of the subject’s calf. “OUCH!” Rick cried from the bushes.

“Rick? What the hell you doing over there?” Judge yelled. “You ain’t got nuttin to do with these sick critters now, do you?”

Rick was wild eyed, “It ain’t right! Prairie dogs gots to pray! You shouldn’t have to teach ‘em. These here ain’t of God.”

Clapper was confused but he started putting the pieces together.

“These here Texas dogs are Godly. They pray. Ours don’t. Ours are of the devil”

Clapper finally figured out why he and his cohorts were brought to this dog town.

“Sheriff, put him in cuffs, for animal cruelty” Judge ordered and the sheriff obliged.

“Man law can’t get my soul!” Rick yelled as he was put in the Sheriff’s SUV and taken away.

“What a night, Judge!” Mary Ann said as her hand brushed his. She was surprised when he gently took hold of it.

“Yeah, sure was a little crazy. How about we make it a little crazier? I would like to ask you out to dinner with me some time, if you´d like…” he asked.

“My word, I’ve been waiting a long time to hear those words! YES!” she answered. “Look! There are some prairie dogs coming out of the borrow, they look fine!”

*          *          *           *            *          *

“You were brought here to teach us to pray, yet you guys don´t even do it?” Sammy asked, laughing to himself.  

“It’s what I gathered; and that crazy guy in the bushes tried to kill you guys for not doing so” Clapper answered, “I recommend you give them what they want. We can teach you how to meditate, we all do it. It’s wonderful. Life changing even. You could assume the prayer position and appease the townsfolk and yet benefit from this time spent”

“Ah-hem” Timmy said.

“Just keep praying Timmy” Sammy said, “You aren’t hurting or annoying anyone and you like it” he finished, giving Timmy a high five.

“Clapper, are you guys gonna stay with us?” Julie asked.

“I guess that’s up to the townsfolk. We are quite a ways  away from Texas” he answered, “But, wherever we end up, I believe it’s how it’s supposed to be”

 

The end.

Living on a Prayer (Part 4)

Living on a Prayer (Part 1)        Living on a Prayer (Part 2)      Living on a Prayer (Part 3)

The night arrived for the grand reintroduction. The townsfolk were excited. Saul put on his only suit for the occasion. They arrived with candles poking through paper plates in their hands. They were horrified by what they found.

There were prairie dogs everywhere writhing on the ground. The Townsfolk didn’t know what to think. Mary Ann piped up “Maybe we are too late. Satan has already taken hold here”

“I don’t know but the Texas dogs are going nuts in these crates. They are clawing to get out!” Judge said.

“Release them” Saul said, “Trust me”

“Ok” Judge said, flipping open the latches.

*          *          *          *          *          *

The native dogs rushed into the burrow out of pure fear. Once inside the leader, Clapper, called out “Anybody down here? These are clearly prairie dog burrows and there are plenty of signs they are currently occupied”

After taking a look around, the native dogs discovered why they were not properly greeted. There were numerous prairie dogs strewn about in various states of consciousness.

Clapper took in the scene and knew exactly what to do. “Find me some desert grass, red clay from a dried creek bed and as much cactus meat and milk as you can find! Stat!”

“Poisoned?” Jumper asked.

“Poisoned” Clapper answered, “Everything is going to be fine” he shouted to the suffering prairie dogs as he then put his front paws together and closed his eyes.

*          *          *            *          *          *

As the night wore on, native dogs came and went with the ingredients requested by Clapper. It was working. Not a single prairie dog’s life was lost. Even the most far gone dogs were only experiencing mild to strong discomfort, but were completely out of the danger zone.

“This was an intentional poisoning” Clapper said.

“How could you tell?” Timmy asked.

“Let´s just say, native dogs have been in struggle with humans for centuries. We have seen it all. We pass down the knowledge. I can see how this got you by surprise. You’ve never faced anything like this before”

“I bet your prayer helped” Timmy side wide eyed and with a big smile.

“Prayer?” he paused to think “What?”

“I saw you praying, after you gave the orders to gather ingredients to make the medicine. You know, hands together, eyes closed….talking to the Lord”

“Oh…Hahaha, you thought I was praying? That’s just how I think. We all do that! No prairie dog has actually prayed in earnest for generations. One or another gets the idea in their head to pray, but it usually passes, like a fad”

“Oh” Timmy said. He sat in silent thought for a little before asking, “Why are you guys here?”

“Maybe we were brought to save you. Beyond that, I have no idea”

“Well, I´m glad you came regardless”

“You know what? Considering we were able to help the way we did, I am glad too”

(To be continued…..)

 

 

 

Living on a Prayer (Part 3)

Living on a Prayer (Part 1)

Living on a Prayer (Part 2)

Judge sent Saul to procure native prairie dogs from Texas. He was given the instructions to come back with at least twenty and to make sure he saw them praying before picking them. A week later he came back with 50 Texas prairies dogs. In the meantime, the community was following Mary Ann´s recommendation, holding nightly prayer vigils around the prairie dog town.

*           *          *          *          *          *

Sammy turned to Julie “What is this all about?”

“I have no idea but I kind of like the songs” she answered.

“I love it!” Timmy said “Who knows, maybe you two will change your minds after all” he trailed off and started singing along to one of the hymns. He had memorized all of them after the third day.

“I have an uneasy feeling about this. The humans up to now have pretty much left us alone. The last time they paid a lot of attention to us, they killed us off, you know” Sammy said.

*           *          *          *          *          *

The townsfolk decided to introduce the native prairie dogs during one of the nightly vigils. They were going to release them on two separate nights, 25 each night. Rick hadn´t been seen for days and the whole town was a little worried about that.

*          *          *          *         *           *

“I don´t feel well” Sammy said.

“Me neither” Julie said.

“I told you guys not to eat that stuff we found! How many others ate it?” Timmy asked.

“Almost everybody” Julie answered.

Moans were echoing through the burrows. The sounds of vomiting and lamenting were deafening. Timmy immediately started praying.

*         *          *          *          *          *

 

Rick was in his basement in front of a monitor. He had hidden game cameras all around the burrows. He was rejoicing in the prairie dogs’ agony.

“Serves them damn heathen prairie dogs right!” he said to himself. “God wanted em dead and I shall be the hand of the Lord” he paused, “That sounds perty good” he added, cracking another beer and cackling over his own wit.

  (To be continued…)

Living on a Prayer (Part 4)

Living on a Prayer (Part 2)

Living on a Prayer (Part 1)

While Timmy was still deep in prayer, more prairie dogs started to come out of the burrow.

“Hey guys!” Julie said to Sammy and Timmy.

“Shhhhh…” Sammy said mockingly, “Father Dear is having a sacred moment over here”

“I can still hear you” Timmy said, opening his eyes “Ah, now I can start my day”

“You still doing that Timmy? You must be like, literally the only one left” Julie said, “I sometimes get the urge, but then I´m like ‘Why bother’” Julie said.

“You should go with that urge, Julie. It´ll make you feel good” Timmy said.

Julie and Sammy just looked at each other. They then turned to Timmy and in unison said “Nah!”

“Let´s go to work, guys?” Sammy said.

“Let´s” Timmy and Julie answered.

*           *          *          *          *          *

Back at the town hall, people were slowly filling the rows of foldable chairs. The back row was already occupied by sleeping seniors.

When everyone was seated, Judge banged the table with his hammer. “I hope everybody had a good lunch and your bellies are full. We got business to attend to. Let´s spitball some ideas”

Mary Ann stood and said “We could hold a prayer vigil at night around their holes and sing hymns. Maybe we can reinstill the Lord in them beautiful critters.

“All right, I like that” Judge said with a smile while simultaneously making and avoiding eye contact with her.

“I know the solution” Rick said as he stood up. He made his way to the front of the congregation as to address it head on, “We killed em off once and we can kill em again. It ain´t natural they ain´t praying. They´s prairie dogs. Pray is in they name. Maybe God didn´t want them back. Maybe it was a mistake and this is a sign it ain´t Godly”

The crowd was murmuring. Mary Ann stood up, “Surely you don´t mean that” she paused, “besides we spent a lot of money already to bring them back”

“We done spent a lot of money in Vietnam and that don´t mean we should have gone on being there and it sure don´t mean it was right” Rick answered.

“Rick, not everything is about Vietnam and killing” Mary Ann said.

“Well, that´s my idea” Rick said as he started for his seat again.

“Thank you Rick, anybody else?” Judge asked. Nobody stirred. “So we got prayin and killin. I ain´t one for killin, so…

“Suit yourself” Rick said with a sneer, “Ya´ll do what ya´ll gotta do, I´m gonna do what I´s gotta do”

A hand rose meekly from the middle of the room.

“Please stand up, Saul” Judge asked.

Saul obliged and nervously started, “This phenomenon has only been observed in reintroduced Cynomys, or prairie dogs if you will, correct?”

“Quit using them big words” Rick interjected.

Judge shot Rick a reprimanding look and turned to Saul, “Please Saul, go on”

“Yes, you see, native Cynomys across the region still pray in majority numbers. Only the reintroduced ones do not. I believe, if we could introduce some native Cynomys to our Cynomys’ town, they might get them to pray”

Some scattered applause erupted from the crowd. “That´s smart!” someone yelled. Rick just sat there with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. 

Living on a Prayer (Part 3)

Living on a Prayer (Part 1)

 

Prairie dogs were once one of the most abundant mammals in the Great Plains region of the United States of America. They were thought of as a nuisance by the settlers and therefore brutally massacred, almost to extinction. In fact, at one point, Arizona did completely eradicate the critters inside its border.

Efforts have been to reintroduce the rodents to their natural habitat in the state of Arizona. It has paid off. Although their numbers are nowhere near their peak, there are many healthy, thriving communities that known as “towns”. There seems to be on anomaly with this second generation of prairie dogs that has the locals in an uproar.

*          *          *          *          *          *

Timmy and Sammy popped their heads out of their burrow at the same time as every other day, just at the break of sunrise. Timmy surveyed their vast dessert domain and said to Sammy, “Good morning! How about we pray a little?”

“No, I´m not feeling it today” Sammy answered.

“You´re not feeling it almost every day as of late”

“Yeah, I don´t know. I just don´t think it does anything” Sammy said, looking down at the warming, red clay desert floor.

“What do you mean? We are back from extinction! That´s a miracle, that´s God!” Timmy said with enthusiasm.

Sammy felt peeved by Timmy´s fervor “We were extinct. Millions of us were murdered. We wouldn´t have had to come back from extinction if we hadn´t been extinct in the first place!”

“Fair enough, but suit yourself” Timmy said, closing his eyes. “but I choose to stay positive, besides, believing gives me powers to not do some things that I would otherwise do” he said before falling into silent prayer.

“I prefer to be a realist. Face life and reality on their terms and I got discipline. I don´t need no ghost in the sky to get me to not do stuff”

Without opening his eyes Timmy put his index finger to his lips and said “Shhhhhh…”

*           *          *          *          *          *

Right before lunchtime, back in the town, the people were having a community meeting.

“Order!” Judge Barns said as he smacked the table with a hammer, an actual framing hammer, not a gavel.

“But we´re hungry Judge” Andy said.

“We need to get to the order of business, the damn heathen prairie dogs” he answered.

“Language” Mary Ann piped up.

“Sorry” Judge said, blushing, “These gosh darn prairie dogs”

“They ain´t prayin’! Why they ain´t prayin’?” shouted a concerned citizen.

“I have no idea” Judge said. “But Andy´s right. Let´s adjourn for lunch and meet back here in an hour and a half”

“Here, here!” the crowd shouted.

Living on a Prayer (Part 2)

 

Greener Grass

Rodrigo lived in a poor neighborhood in the small city of Sorocaba in Brazil. His father was a street vendor, he sold popcorn and his mother was a housekeeper. Rodrigo was never satisfied with his lot in life. He wanted more. He dreamed of one day moving to the United States.

Stan lived in an upper middle class neighborhood in New Jersey. He worked as a lawyer in Manhattan. His life consisted of a commute, work, sleep, a minuscule amount of time reserved for eating and little else. He had no family. He wanted to live more but he never turned down the firm when it needed him. He dreamed of one day moving to a tropical location and having daily adventures.

A step in Rodrigo´s dream came true at the U.S consulate in São Paulo. He was awarded his B-2 visitor visa. He could only stay six months and was not eligible to work, but as his grandmother used to say, “those are man´s laws and not God´s laws.” It was this convenient reasoning that he and his family used to skirt a lot of rules.  

Stan was called to H.R. one Friday afternoon and was given news that he wanted to hear for a long time. “Due to the negative financial climate in our great nation, we are going to have to lay you off.” With that news came a fat severance package. He immediately booked a trip to Rio de Janeiro. He was going to test the waters for a longer term move with this prolonged vacation.

After three months, Rodrigo found that the US wasn´t all he thought it would be. First of all, he arrived in the Boston metro area in December and it was already colder than his freezer back home. Secondly, he had to work. Work hard. Hard work was an even more foreign concept to him than the awful microwave dinners he was subsiding on. Lastly, he missed his friends and family.

In the same period of time, Stan was having a similar experience in Brazil. First, it was HOT. He sweated through three shirts a day. He also wasn´t learning Portuguese as fast as he thought he would. This isolated him. Lastly, he couldn´t get over how nothing worked properly. There were always lines to nowhere. Everywhere he went the system was always down and he found the workers to be unhelpful or incompetent. There was unavoidable corruption at every level of daily life.

Rodrigo decided he needed to pray. Nothing else was working and he figured it wouldn´t hurt. He walked to the nearest Catholic Church and to his surprise, they were having a mass in Portuguese. He took off his down coat and took a seat.

After repeating some sentences in a lifeless droning fashion and transitioning between kneeling, standing and sitting for what felt like fifty times minimum, Rodrigo felt better. That feeling went away quickly when he heard screams and shots. Rodrigo took five bullets from a self-proclaimed patriot who was tired of people praying to his God, in his country and in another language.

Stan realized that he was spending so much time dealing with bureaucracy of trying to get his affairs in order that he had taken very little time to go to the beach and live life. This was specifically why he chose to move to Brazil in the first place. He got his things together and went off to Copacabana Beach.

Stan sat in a chair in the sand under the sun with a delicious cold beer in his hand. He felt that he could get used to this. He watched beautiful women in bikinis walk by while he slowly rounded the corner from buzzed to drunk.

One lovely lady stopped to make small talk. It was a ruse to distract him. Her boyfriend came from the side with a knife and demanded all of Stan´s belongings. Stan refused. The thief plunged the knife into Stan´s heart with such precision he barely felt a thing. The murderous thief laughed with his girlfriend about how stupid the gringo was as they surveyed their booty while walking away from the scene.  

Good Bye!

As Helen lay motionless in her hospital bed, Walter sat by her side with her slender lifeless hand in his. This scene has repeated itself for the better part of the last year. Helen had a slip in the shower and has been in a coma ever since. Walter holds out hope that she will wake up but deep down he knows the chances are slim. Walter hadn´t told Helen he loved her before the accident for such a long time that he cannot even recall the last time. This regret grinds in his heart.

Sitting in a silent hospital room with the woman he has shared the vast majority of his life has been somewhat of a medidative experience. Memories have come up that he hasn´t thought about since the event occurred. The actual occurances may be slightly curved by the glass of time but to him they happened exactly as he remembered them.

He remembers before shipping off to Europe, the nights they spent trying to be in each other’s company for each moment possible. They would go to the dankest bars as they were the only establishments open into the late hours. Neither drank a drop of alcohol. They just sat in a corner, hands stacked on top of one another regaling each other with stories of the few years they had been on the planet. Now that they have lived many more years and have many more stories to tell, he would give anything to be able to sit in the corner of a dark smokey bar and relive them with Helen.

Like clockwork the nurse comes in to change Helen´s bed clothes. Walter can´t help but feel the pity emanating from her. They have their usual small talk. Then Walter, very uncharacteristically, goes into the story of their wedding day. Although the nurse had a lot of work to do, she was enthralled by Walter´s recollection of this grand, beautiful day. Twenty minutes later, Walter realizes that he was holding her up, apologizes and sends her on her way. The nurse assured him he need not apologize and tried to hide the fact that tears were falling down her cheeks.

The next day, the same thing happened. The nurse came in for her usual checkups and tidying, small talk was exchanged and Walter regaled her with the story of when he returned from the war and how he and Helen celebrated being in each other´s company after such a long, arduous time apart. Once again, the nurse unsuccessfully tried to mask her tears and went ahead with her rounds.

This repeated itself for the good part of a month. The nurse would come in to do her job and it got to the point she would expect a story. She even kept extra tissues in her waist pockets. Walter started to look forward to the nurse´s visits.

One day, Walter checked his watch. It was around a half hour until the scheduled nurse visit. As he sat in his medidative state, reliving years gone by, Helen´s head turned towards him. Walter almost fell out of his chair. This was the first movement of Helen, by Helen since the accident. The slightest smile came to her face. Her cloudy eyes cleared for a moment and they pierced those of Walter. She stared mouthing something inaudibly. Walter put his ear to her mouth to hear what she was saying. There was no sound.

Walter knew this was his last chance. He looked into her clear, blue eyes and said “Helen, you are my everything. You gave me three great sons. You made a beautiful home for us. Without you, I don´t know how I could have had a happier life” he saw her eyes clouding again, he continued though the words were breaking up in his throat “Helen, I love you. I always loved you. I will always love you. I´m so sorry I didn´t tell you more often. I´m so…..” The machine Helen was hooked up to let out a piercing beep.

Walter could barely make her out through the tears; the nurse who he told his stories to ran in. “Walter, please go into the hall” she said, sternly but with care and love in her voice.

“But….” Walter resisted.

“Please” she answered. Walter acquiesced.

As he stood in the hall, his legs were so weak he could not stand. Not even after the biggest atrocities he saw in Europe did he cry with such force. Between sobs, he cried to the heavens how much he loved Helen in hopes that her spirit would hear him.

The nurse came into the hall and gave Walter the bad news. Helen was gone. All Walter could think was that he was soon to follow. He felt some relief in knowing that Helen left him knowing how much he loved her.

On Meditation

I am going to keep this piece very informal. I usually write short fiction stories but this subject has been so important to me as of late, I thought I would write about it. If it reaches one person and helps them, I will be elated. The subject is meditation. I have been doing it consistently now for over four months. In no way am I an expert. I can only express what someone who has done something for a miniscule period of time can. In this piece, I hope to cover the Why, How, What Happened.

Why:

I can´t explain why but I have always been drawn to meditation or at least the sexy idea of meditation. Something about being able to meld your mind with the fabric of the universe was very titillating to me. Of course, as you will read, this may never actually happen but I can tell you in my short time practicing, I feel I have gotten close. Over the past two decades every few months or so I would tell myself I would make meditation a staple in my life. I would either read a book, pre internet, or listen to guided meditations, post internet. I would “meditate” here or there and not have a plan. I really didn´t know for meditation to give results, consistency is the key.

The last push to make a plan and stick with it was given by none other than Arnold Schwarzenegger. He was a guest on the Tim Ferris Podcast, a motivational show that gives life hacking tips and has effective people as guests. Arnold described a time in his life that I related too. A time where his thoughts were jumbled and his life felt hectic and out of control. He was having success in his ventures but he was having difficulty putting it all together and making sense of it all. He said that one thing and one thing only put him on track and kept him there. Transcendental Meditation. He used TM for exactly one year and stopped. It was enough to right the ship and sail into one of the most successful careers the world has ever seen. Although my practice is not TM per se, I read extensively about it and have adopted some of its principles.

How:

Let´s get to it. The how. What do I do? Just sit there? Summon spirits and demons from other realms. Yes and no. Well, maybe to the second question. I shall explain. What I do is sit down for a period of time, usually 10-15 minutes, the most 20 minutes but that is rare. I do this two times a day, once as soon as I wake and another close to bed time. When I started I used a mantra that I got from the internet. Mine was “Enga”. I have no idea what it means, I just like the way it sounds and vibrates. The mantra is simply an anchor. When you meditate, you do not think about anything. That is the point. To think about nothing. This is where the mantra enters. You focus on the mantra. I mentalized the mantra on out breaths. I breath in, and as I breath out I would think the mantra and feel it vibrate in my head. When your mind wanders and it will, your bring your attention back to the mantra.

I have since started simply focusing on my breath and have similar results. Start thinking about your childhood? Breathe. Bring your attention back to your breath. Start thinking about that bill that is late? Breathe. Bring your attention back to your breath. That´s it. You don´t pontificate the nature of reality, the reason for your existence or anything. It´s just focused attention for a few moments per day. How is this beneficial? Shouldn´t I come in contact with the spirit world or have a chat with God? I will try to scratch the surface of that later. I am afraid I cannot even put into words the benefits, but I will try.

I know a lot of people get hung up on sitting posture. There is no need to. Just make sure you are comfortable but not so comfortable that you go to sleep. Some people can meditate laying down. I cannot. I will go to sleep. I use a “meditation chair”. It looks like the letter “L” with a pad for the butt. I will admit, I made the investment almost to guarantee that I would stick with meditation for a period of time. I used my cheapness to my advantage. I knew if I spent that money, I would force myself to do it. This worked but by no means do you need fancy pillows or chairs. Before the chair arrived in the mail, I was sitting on a folded blanket and propped my back up on a wall. I had great results.

I have done some experimenting as well. I have used guided meditations with great results. I like the ones called “body scans”. The narrator will have you focus on the different parts of your body and relaxing them. I´ve had some sessions that left me extremely relaxed. There is an app on my phone that I use called Insight Timer. It is a free app. It works as a timer, as the name implies, but there is a wonderful array of guided meditations to follow. Another advantage is that it keeps stats. I love stats, you may or may not. If you don´t, I am pretty sure you can turn this feature off. Even if you cannot, just ignore them!

Another thing I experiment with is binaural beats. I won´t go into what these exactly are. That would be well beyond my pay grade. The Wiki page explains them perfectly. Pretty much, they produce a sound that affects the way you brain functions. Again, Google my friend. I feel I have had pretty good results from these as well. Different frequencies will produce different results such as, relaxation, contemplation, creativity, euphoria, just to name a few. Again, do your research but I recommend them.

What Happened:

So now that you see how easy it is, let´s talk a little about what happens. Of course, results will vary, ask your doctor…oh, wait. The scientific community is pretty much in unison that meditation is beneficial. A simple Google search will give more information on this than you could read in a few incarnations.

First thing I need to express because I saw other people had the same reaction. For the first few days, I actually felt more irritable than usual. I just felt like I was in a really bad mood. Again, this was only for the first few days. It passed and has never happened again.

During the first few weeks, I had some absolutely sublime revelations. They are personal and not Earth shattering so I feel no need to share them here. These have subsided though. They would happen the moment I brought my attention back after it had wandered off. I would label the thought “Past”, “Desire”, “Utility”, etc. and as I realized my mind was wandering and I brought it back either to the mantra or my breath, BAM, I was hit with a deep thought that would resonate with me for days.

Overall I feel more calm in control. I have become a better father to my three year old daughter. How, you ask? Because I don´t lose my temper. Here is one of those places I fear my words will fail me, but I will try to explain. I feel like I understand her more and therefore an action that would anger me in the past does not because I see it for what it is. Maybe she is just exploring her world. That´s why she knocked over the cup of juice, on purpose. Maybe she is just exploring limits, that´s why she continues to bang on the plate after I had asked three times to stop. Also, again, it is hard to explain, I just feel overall more patient. If I miss more than one day of meditation, this is very rare, I feel a little anxiety and a little out of control. This may or may not be some kind of placebo effect but as soon as I get a session in, all feels normal again.

Another thing that I have not really read anywhere else but I have experienced is increased memory. When I read books and watched movies or television series in the past, I would pretty much forget everything, pre meditation days. I have read East of Eden three times and every time felt like the first time. I watched all of Breaking Bad. I loved it. Ask me something about it. I cannot answer it. Now I seem to be able to recall plot points and other details better after viewing something. I think it may be a function of training the mind to be more present and training focus.

I am very early on in this journey. I may write a follow up to this piece a few months from now. I may be able to articulate myself even better or maybe not. I hope if you take anything away from reading this it is, meditation is simple, you can do it, there are many benefits and consistency is key. In fact, it is probably the most important factor. It´s not how you sit, what you mantra is, if you are burning fancy incense. The most important thing is that you are doing it and doing it consistently. At least once daily, preferably twice.

If you have any questions, please feel free to leave them in the comments section. I will do my best to answer them. You can also e-mail me. There is a Contact page with my information. I feel that mediation is so important that it should be taught early and often. Kids should be taught meditation, now more than ever. With so many things fighting a war for attention, the loser is attention. It gets so spread thin it is rendered almost useless. Meditation is a way to own your attention and bring it back to health.

Life is Short

“So how old are you now, Fuli?” Femi asked.
“Fifteen” Fuli answered.
“Fifteen?!?! By your size I thought you were at least 20 days old!” Femi said.
“I get that a lot. Since the family got that new puppy, I´ve been eating a lot” Fuli said proudly.
“Yeah, that little pup leaves meals all over the house! It´s great” Femi said.
Fuli got serious for a moment. “Are you scared?”
“Why would I be?” Femi asked.
“Well, you´ve been around for what, like 28 days? You´re not going to be around much longer. Does that scare you?” Fuli asked.
“You´re too young to be thinking that way. Besides, why be scared of what you cannot control? I look at it this way, I have two glorious days to live. Two days that I get to enjoy the bounty the little dog leaves all over the floor. Two days to see you get even bigger and stronger!” Femi said as a tear rolled down his eye.
“You´re right” said Fuli. “Hmm, what´s that smell? It´s a little sweet…” Fuli began to cough. He felt dizzy. He didn´t notice that his uncle had already fallen to the floor stiff. His world too went black.
As Mandy stood there with the insecticide in her hand she pondered aloud “Why the hell does god put these creatures on Earth anyway?”

Tickling the Ivories

Fran always wanted to learn how to play the piano. Like most people, he convinced himself that people who knew how to play an instrument were “musical”, or possessed some innate talent that he did not posses. Also, like most, he did not know that people who played an instrument, though sometimes possessing some innate musical abilities, simply practiced and practiced and practiced until they became proficient at their craft.

Fran always looked for the easy way in everything he did. He took pills to lose weight, lost thousands of dollars in get rich quick courses and only hooked up with women that came to him. These are just some examples of his mediocre way of doing things. Because there was no apparent easy way to learn the piano he just put off trying and admired those who could from afar.

One day Fran saw an advertisement in the back of his favorite gossip magazine that read: “Learn the secret of musical masters! No need for useless practice. Play your favorite songs in days! No prior skill required.” And there was a P.O. Box to request more information. He found it odd there was no e-mail address or phone number. He was also a little irritated by this as well. Physically sending a letter would be a lot more effort than he was use to expending for any cause. But this was special. This letter could make his dream come true.

A few months past and Fran had forgot that he had sent that life changing letter. He was reminded one day when he came home to a manila envelope addressed to him from the All Star Music Academy. He got very excited. He ripped it open and inside there was a business card with an address, a time and date that was a few days from today and a key, nothing more. The address was in a pretty bad part of town.

Although Fran did have a few reservations he decided that it would be worth any risk to realize his lifelong dream of playing the piano. It did not even cross his mind that such a risk could have been averted and his dream would have been realized by now by simply practicing a paltry twenty minutes a day over the past couple decades.

Fran arrived at the address. The house was not as bad as the ones to the side of it. He approached the door and there was a small hand written sign that read “Enter and take a seat at the piano in the living room”. Fran´s palms started to sweat out of nerves but “here goes nothing” he thought.

On the piano was another hand written note “Take the blue pill in the ashtray and stroke the C key 100 times” Panic struck Fran. Which one was the C key? He looked down. On a tiny bright pink post-it note taped to a key read “C”. Relief passed over him. He gathered enough saliva in his mouth to help the pill go down, inserted it into his mouth and swallowed.

He took a seat at the bench, extended his index finger and pressed down on the yellowed key marked “C”. “Pling” the piano sang. He repeated the process as the note instructed. When he got to 50 he started to feel giddy. The sound of the C note became hilarious. He looked to his finger. It looked to be 100 miles away. He took it off the key for a moment and put it close to his eye but instead of appearing closer, it appeared even further. His gaze turned to the piano, all of a sudden the keys were larger than cars! “What was happening?” he thought. Thoughts started to appear in his head that were clearly not his own but they were in his internal voice.

This insanity went on for hours until he fell fast asleep. A few hours later he woke up feeling fine and with a renewed sense of confidence. For some reason he felt great to be alive. He had an energy that he had never felt before. There was another note on the piano. “Go forth and practice” it read.

The next day, Fran bought a piano and a book of scales. He practiced the scales incessantly. Every waking moment that he could. When he was not tickling the ivories he did not feel full. In about one year he had mastered all the scales in the book. He played them so beautifully that they almost sounded like songs. He picked up a few more books, one about how to read music and some books of classical sheet music. In another year he was playing Bach, Beethoven, Wagner, and his favorite, the Brazilian composer Vila Lobos.

As he got better at the piano, he got better at all things he did. He became more organized. He stopped reading gossip magazines and instead opted for books. He exercised. He starting eating well. He was in great shape and feeling great.

On a lark he went to a local studio and recorded a few of his favorite songs. He would proudly give copies to his friends and family. One day he got a call. It was an advertising company. They offered him a job as a composer for commercials and to occasionally play in the office during big events. It was triple what he was currently earning in a job he loathed. He accepted the job and accepted his new way of life and succeeded at both.