Meditation: An Exercise in Futility?

michelleI’m sitting in a two day conference with about 300 engineers, so as you can imagine the population is heavily skewed toward males.

And I’m a little bored because I’m working the registration desk and since check in, there haven’t been a whole lot of questions for me to answer.

So I think about my friend Rani and how this is a perfect opportunity to practice meditation or visualization.

So I pick a guy.

6 feet tall.  Bald patch on the crown of his head.  Handsome face.  A little geeky.  Wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looking good in them.

I focus completely on him.

I imagine my heart sending out waves of vibration in his direction.

Red waves of love that say “You love me.”

I giggle a little because this is silly, but what the hay – it’s not like I have anything else to do.

So, back to the waves.

After a while, I begin to visualize scenes with him in my mind.

Making love.

Laughing on the beach.

Him twirling my hair.

I was ON A ROLL!  I mean, this poor guy was being inundated with my energy over the course of several hours.

And?

Nothing.

I swear, even when he could look at me, he looked at the empty space ABOVE me.

And then it happened.

The friend he’d been talking to all day long, the guy in the red hipster jeans walked up to me and chatted me up.

Seriously.

I could not make this up.

So it appears that my visualization skills are great but my directionality needs some work.

One thought on “Meditation: An Exercise in Futility?

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