Ten Days of Silent Meditation

It's the last night before we leave, and I'm chatting with some people outside. Noble silence has turned into noble chattering. I check the clock.

“It's lights out already? What?”

You know when you have those moments when you're realizing the gravity, the honesty of the place you're in? I had a huge one right there.

For the past hour, I had been in this Bali jungle meditation center without access to the outside world, chatting with a group of charismatic Russians about meditation positions, European politics, and English slang over some Taiwanese Oolong Tea. We were so absorbed in just enjoying each other's company, with the white noise of Bali crickets and the friendly night skies looking over us in one of our last times all together.

These moments were what I dreamed of in high school, at 2 AM when I'd roll around my gaming chair and contemplate life after playing five rounds of League of Legends, with the white noise of Oklahoma crickets and the friendly night skies looking over my house.

Walking back to my room, I smile at myself, “This is one of the finest nights of my life.”