I am in a large room. Lots of people. We are drawing. Then we pick up our stuff. We're going to meditate. There are holes in the tables for our faces. People move all around.
I see Joan. She asks if my name is on the back of her sweatshirt. It isn't. She says it should be. I put it on with press-on letters. She will remove them later. She tells me they didn't accept my books because they were the same ones as last year. I tell her I wish I had more new work, and that I want to be in the studio more.
When I go back to my table it has been moved. Everyone is getting mats with holes for their faces. I can't find one. Finally I find a stack of mats. I grab one. It is suede, a nice tan color, and very soft.
I wander into a big room on the lowest level looking for a spot. People are aligning their mats to North and beginning to lie down. I line my mat up with other people's because I don't know where North is. I lie face down first, but someone makes a noise. I look around. Everyone is on their backs, with their arms out. I turn over. I realize I am in the room with the advanced people. Some guy squeezes onto the end of my mat. When I look he has a skinny little kid tucked under his arm. There is a guy leading the chant. It starts "Imaresco South Mar." Everyone chants back.
I wake, worrying that I don't know the chant. But I also know that people will be kind, they like beginners.
Labels: Prime the Pump (inspirations)