The Life We Once Knew

How To Fake Divinity

What we needed was a distraction. We needed a place where we could forget about Beatles and Storms, love and loss, anything except what was happening in the moment. We all needed to step away from our lives and take a moment for reflection. What better place to do that then a meditating camp?

John, Paul, George, and Ringo had already reserved places and were planning to go to India. Somebody else dropped out, giving me an open place to jump in. I wasn't too keen on landing back under the thumb of The Maharishi, but, at the time, it was my only option. I didn't want to go anywhere by myself and the lads only had this one vacation for the time being.

"It's warm," Ringo mumbled.

I cracked an eye open to glance at him, "It's the sun."

"The sun is warm."

"Do you know a sun that isn't warm?" Paul asked.

"It's called the moon, son," John tapped the side of his head, "Comes out at night, that's why it's so cold."

"That's not a sun."

"Shush, you're supposed to be meditating," Pattie whispered.

"Right, sorry."

We all leaned back in our chairs and closed our eyes. The Maharishi had said we were supposed to be relaxing and feeling the sun. We were to focus on the warmth of the light, the feel of the breeze, and the hum of the insects around us. He told us to close our eyes and focus on our connection to the universe; how everything moves, how it feels, and how we feel in correlation. It sounded like a load of rubbish to me, but I didn't go there to see the sights of the tents. 

All I could hear was the breathing of the four lads and three girls in the chairs next to me, the wind rustling through the trees, and the conversation of people a few meters away. I could feel the heavy weight of Vera on my chest. She was warm, and her breathing was even. She had been asleep for going on ten minutes and I hoped she would stay asleep longer. With my arms around her, I felt myself wrapped in total comfort.

My focus slowly began to wane. All I could feel was Vera. I couldn't hear anything, feel anything, or know anything besides the toddler sleeping on my stomach. After a few seconds, even she vanished. I thought I had finally reached the transcendental state of meditation until I heard a familiar voice mutter, "Bloody hell, she fell asleep."

"Mummy," someone poked my cheek, "Mummy?"

Slowly, I opened my eyes. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. I rubbed my eyes to try and bring the world into focus. John, Paul, and Vera were leaning over me and blocking my view of everything else. When they backed off, I could see George and Ringo.

"I think I did it, laddies," I grinned.

"You just fell asleep," George frowned, "That's not meditating."

"Isn't meditating quieting your mind? My mind was quiet when I was sleeping."

John chuckled, "She's got a point."

"Not the right point," George argued. 

"A point is a point, mate," I grinned, "My mind was pretty quiet."

George rolled his eyes as Ringo rubbed his stomach, "Let's get some food, I'm starved."

"I can second that."

The lads began to make their way towards the table. Before they left, Ringo grabbed Vera and hoisted her onto his shoulders. Both were laughing like entertained children. I watched them go and yawned.

The idea of meditation was actually not bad, I just couldn't get the hang of it. My mind was always running at several thousand miles per hour, it was impossible to stop it. People like George had a knack for meditation and became masters within seconds. Others took longer, and then there was me. I know plenty of people who meditate daily, but I still don't understand it.