Meditation Perfected

Here's how I do it.

I repair to my room, gently close the door behind me, sit in my office chair, and dial up sounds of the Irish Coast. This is all so I can drown out the hideous sound of MSNBC, which Carol watches 28 hours/day.

Do I really believe I am listening to waves breaking on the coast of Ireland? Of course not. It's probably a recording of some jerkoff slapping water in his overfilled bathtub while he watches reruns of Beavis and Butt-head on his laptop while sucking on a joint.

I don't care. It sounds like waves breaking on the beach, it sounds magnificent, and it soothes my troubled soul.

I begin chanting my mantra in my head. My mantra is a work horse because my brain never shuts up and never shuts down. If I sit for twenty minutes I probably get three minutes of true meditation. But I will get to where I want to be. Count on that.

Many times Patsy follows me into the room. And that, my friends, is the icing on the cake. Because she will jump into my lap and give me all her love, full force. The most powerful love there is because she does not know I am an idiot. And she never will.

She stretches out across my thighs.

So, waves are gently breaking on the Irish Coast and I am silencing my thoughts. I reach down and run my hand across Patsy's back, eyes closed, and an overwhelming feeling of peace anesthetizes the pain in my brain.

The effect is stunning.

There is nothing better.