Group Meditation Turned Single Interrogation

I recently dropped into a group meditation class in San Francisco. The place was located in the Mission district, and the class offered to me as a gift from a friend. I booked my reservation ahead of time. I walk in and on time. Guess what? I’m the only person signed up for this week’s session. At the top of the staircase entered a young woman who greeted me promptly. She was the woman leading these meditation sessions. She was also overly cheerful and overly anxious to meet me. I couldn’t even walk up the set of stairs before being barraged with a plethora of questions and surface-level greetings from her.

“You must be Dann. How are you? Did you find the place alright? Hi, I’m ____.”

There was a certain aura about her which exuded mixed messages. It was slightly on edge, uneasy, and anxiety-driven. She was a tad overly perky, as if trying to overcompensate or overcome her own inner discomfort she was feeling. I felt her slightly forceful energy, filling the space with a subtle need to prove herself. Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was just this week. Maybe this is how it just is. Regardless. Give me a minute. Seriously.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I quickly realized I’m the only one here. Noticing my reaction, she reactively started to explain how I was the only one registered for this week’s session. The exact thoughts rolling through my head at the moment was “great” with an obvious sarcastic tone. Thank you for letting me know ahead of time. She told me I could come back the following week. I thought about it, but I was already here. I committed myself to tonight. I left work early and literally chased after the shuttle bus down in Mountain View in order to make it up here on time. After exiting the shuttle in SF, I walked at a brisk pace and hurried along the sidewalks. I arrived perfectly on time. Did I really want to come back and do this all over again the following week? I committed myself for this particular session. No, I can’t reschedule.

For the next 20 mins, I was getting hit with question after question after question. I kid you not. I was interrogated about my current feelings, goals, and aspirations in life. I was asked to describe my passion and how I was getting there. I’m not one to be shy about this information, but lately, I just haven’t been in the mood. Even still, I was completely bewildered by this woman’s tenacity, persistence, and lack of awareness. Anybody with the tiniest hint of intuition could have intuited my low energy, noticed the body language, and detected the disheveled tone of my voice. Bottom line is, I am fucking tired. Here she is, firing off questions after questions. She started at the surface level.  "How are you feeling? How are things? Where do you work? What do you do at work?"  Then she started diving deeper into more energy-consuming questions as followups. Looking back in retrospect, it probably would have been a better idea to have postponed the session till the following week.

What was I thinking?

I did not sign up for a therapy session! I have my own therapist, and you ain't him. I came here to meditate in a collaborative space with other people, with a shared energy. Instead I have only you. I was hoping for a beautiful experience regardless, connecting one to one instead of one to many, and appreciating the unique dynamic presented here. Instead, here she is, continuously putting me on the spot to socialize, to open up, to answer her questions. I’m convinced it was her own anxiety primarily driving this. Convinced. I tried to blame ignorance, but she wasn’t ignorant. She was well-aware, and it made the situation all the more frustrating. She was aware of my mental state and energy. She said to me multiple times, “Sorry I know I’m asking you lots of questions, and I know you came here to meditate and not be interrogated. [smile] Feel free to not answer them.”, which was quickly followed by “So what is your life passion?” Seriously? What the f__k. Her anxiety continued driving her actions while she continued firing off more questions even after apologizing for it. She would not stop. She could not stop.

Believe it or not, we eventually did meditate for 15 minutes.  We sat there afterwards, and she proceeded to ask me how I felt. Again with the questions. I was brutally honest. I told her what I felt, which by majority was tiredness and sheer mental exhaustion. My brain literally wanted to simply shut off. We debated on several topics such as medicine and about her practice as a “healer”, which I admit to be incredibly wary and skeptic of. Self-proclaimed healers can go hug a tree for all I care, but you won’t ever get me to. We exchanged views on mental health, the state of well-being, and the intricate power of one’s mind. She elaborated about her belief in the mind knowing no difference between fact or fiction. For example, if you imagined yourself running through a field of lush green grass or throwing the last game-winning pitch in the world series, your mind will receive the same intensity and level of stimulation as if it really was running or winning the world series. She proceeded onto her belief in being able to recover from any mental illness, even genetic diseases like schizophrenia and psychosis, by sheer mental power and willpower. She takes the quote, “it’s all in your head”, to a whole new level believing sheer will can set you free. I challenged her on these notions, mainly to support my own belief in psychotherapy and mental illness. Perhaps in some cases, these things appear to go away or lessen in severity over time, but is it really because they thought of happy sunrises and loving thoughts all day? A little bullshit goes a long way. I subtly called her out on it in my own way.

We have differing views. I can respect and leave it at that.