A few years ago, I filled out by birth date details into a “numerology calculator” that would, supposedly, tell me all about my personality and the state of my life from these, actually pointless, numbers.
As I sit in the general practitioner’s room, I scratch at the frayed material of the seat beneath me and hear my heartbeat in my ears as I wait to finally, finally be fixed.
Meditation is supposed to be this be-all and end-all for living your best life. At least that’s what I’ve heard, anyway.
As most of those around me know, I’m having quite a hard time as of late.