Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Tilt.
These interactive meditations are fascinating. It’s one step at a time, and then they take on a life of their own. And they always surprise me.
A few nights ago, while in a lengthy meditation, a man sat next to me but refused to look in my direction. He purposely sat close but just as purposely looked away from me, and I didn’t understand why.
I still don’t understand but I have one more piece of the puzzle.
Last night, I launched myself back to the same spot in that meditation, where I talked to Gray Beard and then this man came and sat next to me, without speaking, and then he talked to Gray Beard but not to me. And then Gray Beard rose and left and this man and I were left sit- ting next to each other, me looking at his strong jaw and the side of his neck and his shoulder while he stared off at nothing to the right.
Then in my meditation, I reached out my right hand and placed it gently on his left shoulder, and called his name, a nickname.
I thought he might turn and grin and say hello. Or that he might recoil. He did neither.
Instead, I touched his arm, and I called his name. And he still did not look at me. Instead, he hunkered over and burst into tears. Deep, heart-wrenching sobs.
I eased my arm around his shoulders and drew his head to my shoulder, then kissed his head.
Maybe in my next meditation, he’ll tell me why his heart hurts so much.