Yesterday I was hit with a bad juju. I've been meditating faithfully, every day twenty minutes, trying to inoculate myself from an onslaught of tragedy and ingratitude. There is no immunity no matter what. The juju jumped into me and made its way right up to my chest, that same space I faithfully envision as a colorless void, the place to drag my thoughts when I come to the stillness.
Once it got in,there was no stopping it. "I'll show you non-reactive," it said. "Let me remind you who's boss. Meditation or no meditation, I will have my way with you."
And it did. It jumped up and down inside of me until my heart pounded so loudly, my ears ached. "I can breathe you away," I thought. After all, I've been practicing this for over a year now. Inhale deep, let my stomach fill up with the breath. Or is my stomach supposed to fill up when I exhale? I couldn't remember. The juju had me good.
The more I resisted, the stronger it got. "I hate you," I said. Nothing could have made the juju happier. "Then, I'll ignore you," I said. The juju was not worried. Jujus are known for their patience and tenacity."Fine. I'll give in. Tell me what you want and then go away."
Juju doesn't play this game either. "You know what I want," said the Juju, "and I don't even have to tell you." I know the truth when I hear it.
We woke up together this morning. This Juju looks like it will be hanging around for a long time to come.