People looking for ways not to freak out. What to do if not? Our heads get out of hand, technology eats our hearts. Herds of sapiens from the rich world sit in meditation in the big city. Others listen to Tibetan singing bowls, take the I Ching every Saturday, or climb climbing walls that represent mountains. Bipeds of ferocious capitalism try to calm down with various methods.
A teacher who teaches teenagers attends a collective 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? She has no idea, but she’s going to try. Will he get a botch? Perhaps sending love with thought is something innate that, if you put it on, comes out by itself.
The teacher considers choosing JR for sending, her most difficult student. Although better not. With JR she is not going to come out. JR makes her life impossible, sneaks into her nightmares, awakens horrible feelings in her. It is more realistic to try a group sending, to the whole class, to distribute the difficulty of the transfer. The teacher visualizes the worst group of 30 teenagers of hers, on a Monday at eight in the morning. She takes a deep breath and sends them love however she can. Are you doing it?
A family attends a free singing bowl concert. The hall of the cultural center in his neighborhood is full of people sitting on mats. The father and mother close their eyes with all their might and try to focus on the sound of the bowls, to see if anything improves. His two children have been forced. The eldest lies desperate, face down, biting the dust, with no motive. She oozes adolescent hatred from every pore of her skin until, suddenly, and at the same time as her 29 classmates, each one wherever they are –JR in a hamburger joint–, she notices a stone in her chest. shoe of hers But what is this.
His six-year-old brother is the only person standing at the Tibetan concert. Frowning, she watches the adults scattered across the floor. She scrutinizes us one by one, during 50 eternal minutes of strange sounds. Stunned, he seems to wonder what will become of him if, my God, his child’s life, at this age when he still can’t fend for himself, is in the hands of people who trust their bowls of corn flakes .
