People looking for ways not to go crazy. What can be done if not? Our heads are slipping away, technology is eating our hearts. Herds of sapiens from the rich world sit to meditate in the big city. Others listen to Tibetan bowls, play the I Ching every Saturday, or climb climbing walls that represent mountains. Bipeds of ferocious capitalism try to calm themselves down with various methods.
A teacher who teaches teenagers attends a group meditation: close your eyes, choose a person with whom you have a conflict and send them love. The teacher closes her eyes. How do you send love? He has no idea, but he'll try. Will he get a nyap? Maybe sending love with thought is an innate thing that, if you put your mind to it, comes out on its own.
The teacher considers choosing JR, her most difficult student, for the shipment. Although it is worth more than not. It won't work out with JR. JR makes her life impossible, sneaks into her nightmares, awakens horrible feelings in her. It is more realistic to try a group submission, to the whole class, to spread the difficulty of the transfer. The teacher visualizes her worst group of thirty teenagers, on a Monday at eight in the morning. Take a deep breath and send them as much love as you can. are you doing it
A family goes to a free Tibetan bowls concert. The hall of the cultural center of his neighborhood is full of people sitting on mats. Father and mother close their eyes as hard as they can and try to focus on the sound of the bowls, to see if anything improves. His two children have been forced. The big girl is desperate, mouth watering, biting the dust, without a mobile phone. He oozes adolescent hatred from every pore of his skin until, all at once, and at the same time as his 29 classmates, each one wherever he is – JR in a hamburger joint –, he notices a stone in his shoe. But what is this?
His six-year-old brother is the only person standing up at the Tibetan concert. Frowning, he watches the adults sprawled on the floor. He scrutinizes us one by one, for fifty eternal minutes of strange sounds. Stunned, he seems to wonder what will become of him if, my God, his life as a child, at this age when he still can't fend for himself, is in the hands of people who trust their bowls of the corn flakes.
