And it was a weird flashback. Like looking at a younger version of myself. Because for the two years I camped there, I used to meditate every morning at that very spot.
Every morning I used to light a stick of incense, take out a the laminated photo of my Guru and sit for an hour in lotus, meditating. Well, half-lotus. I could never quite get my other damn leg up there. I was practicing a form of kundalini yoga. In certain circles, it’s considered more of a spiritual science than a form of religion. For it’s a step-by-step process designed to systematically take you to the higher states of consciousness.
The type of yoga I practiced mostly involved mantra repetition, different breathing techniques and focusing on the Divine forms of the universe. Step-by-step purifying the different chakras in your body. Until you purify the final chakra in the top of our head and reach the Highest State. Or so the story goes.
I never reached that Final State. Samadhi. Enlightenment. Nirvana. Whatever you call it. But I will say, meditation was one of the few things that worked for me in this life. In terms of untangling the knot that is my warped psyche. I meditated regularly for about 7 years. And that was certainly the highest, purest state I ever attained in this life.
But then it was like I hit a spiritual glass ceiling. Where I could climb no higher. It got to feel like I was no longer meditation. I was just sitting there. So I got bored with it. With my lack of progress. So I gave up the meditating. And fell off the spiritual path. And I’ve kinda’ been going downhill ever since.
So when I saw that kid meditating this morning, it was kind of like seeng the Ghost of Ace Backwords Past. And I couldn’t help wondering how my life would have turned out if I had stayed on the spiritual path. . . Even as another part of me believes we are all evolving spiritually at the exact right pace. In our respective journeys back to the godhead. The caterpillar transforms into a butterfly at the exact right time. And not a minute before. The snake sheds it’s skin at the appropriate time. He can’t just rip it off. Or, as the Supremes used to sing, “Moma told me, you can’t hurry love.”