Too good to be true?

SF Women's Building

I have been meditating solidly for the past two months. I find the exercise calming. Clearing the mind is the goal. Thoughts, good or bad, are meant to be disregarded. One is meant to focus on the breath. Sometimes I count '1, 2' over and over in my head as I inhale and exhale to help keep me on track. Thoughts or feelings that enter the mind are noted with 'pleasant', 'unpleasant' or 'neutral' and set aside.  

There was a flyer posted at my local coffee shop for a gratis group-meditation being offered at the Women's Building. I decided to check it out last night. 

I walked into the room of waiting people and said, 'hello'. Most people looked up, but no one responded. Had the meditation already begun? One woman was wrapped almost entirely in a thick, brown blanket. Another person seemed to be asleep. There was a note written on the white board: meditation 7.30-9.30. Were we going to meditate for a solid two hours? I have only done 15 minute meditations and didn't think I could do much more. 

The facilitator, a man who called himself 'Jafa', sat perched in front of a laptop near the white board. I approached him to ask about the structure of the evening. He told me that there would be some discussion couched around two 15-minute meditations.  

'Discussion' actually meant that he would be talking most of the evening about the chakras and karma and past lives and I understood very little of what he was saying. He spoke for nearly thirty minutes before launching into the first meditation. He said that we would meditate to music. There would be three songs representing the three chakras we would be focusing on: One near the bellybutton, one at the sternum, and one just above where the eyebrows meet. He talked about what each chakra stood for, but I can't remember any of what he said now. He pressed play on his laptop and lively, slightly raucous music came out of an adjacent portable speaker. It was at that point that we were meant to close our eyes and go for it. No deep breathing, no getting comfortable...nada.   

The music was too loud. It didn't help that I was sat very near the speaker. The synth bits of the first tune felt penetrating. My palms almost started to sweat and I thought: Fuck, I'm having a stress response--the exact opposite of why I came! My solution was to open my eyes, stare mostly at the floor and just focus on the breath--1,2,1,2. I did look around a bit as well. People seemed seemed to be into it, but I don't know. Our man at the front had his head back slightly as if he were communing with someone or something high above. He held his left had up at chest level and his right hand near his crotch between his legs. 

Talk that followed seemed to be geared toward how one can use meditation in order to become a more effective white-collar worker. 'Don't take on your co-workers' energy. Try to remain detached.' And: 'Ask your boss for what you want. Don't worry about the outcome.'  One participant raised her hand to say that she needed to leave by 9.00p. I took that as  an opportunity and left shortly thereafter.