Meditation begins with great intentions and dreams but can end poorly. Of course, such is the path to wisdom, self-knowledge and about one of the marriages in the U.S. Even with a great meditation app and outfitted with a perfect set of Lulu lemon yoga pants, things can go wrong quickly. Those distractions as we breathe, those pop-up thought bubbles, those nagging urges to think about something, anything else. All to much to handle with grace.

I try to remain calm, gently returning to focus on my breath. Ah—inhale to a count of four— pause to a count of five- — exhale for a count of six. I know the drill. However, it seems no matter how hard I practice, these fleeting thoughts enter, ready to party when I am planning for a quiet evening at home, in my head anyway. So, after many failed attempts at kindly asking my attention to return to my breath I decided to try something new. I had politely asked by thoughts to wait their turn in line and to advance when called upon. I was thwarted n that plan when my thoughts simply jumped ahead, like an eager two-year old pushing himself ahead for a piece of candy. So, I began to abandon the reasoned mature approach and took up a more aggressive posture.

Inhale. Pause. Exhale. I move through several cycles. Good for me. And then a nagging thought emerges, provoked by the smell of burning rubber from the garage.

“Something is burning”, the voice says.

Using a steady and forceful inner voice, I reply, “ Can’t be. Shut up.”

That seems to quiet that voice. I return to my pleasant cycle of breath. But soon another distraction pops up, this prompted by a bee sting on my left hand.

“Ow. That hurt” the voice complains.

I nearly shout internally, “You are such a complainer, Shad up in there!”

That quiets things for a while. I complete nearly two minutes of silence and nearly trance-like meditation, (12 cycles of breathing over a two-minute time frame—an all-time best for me, even if am not really counting). Soon, I am interrupted by a squeezing feeling in my chest, a tightening in my throat and a sense that my face is swelling up. The voice clears her throat to get my attention. This time I really let that inner voice have it.

“For mercy’s sakes. We’re trying to meditate in here. Please be quiet!”

And to my great surprise, I hear,

“No. You shut the heck up.” Undaunted, I reply strongly, albeit with bated breath, “No! You shut up right now.”

That inner voice responds,

“And just who’s going to stop me?” in a very challenging tone. It continued,

“Not you. If you haven’t noticed, your heart beat is zooming up. You’re sweating. Your adrenaline is soaring. Your so-called meditative breath is beating away double-time. You are actually in shock from that bee sting. And if its escaped your attention, the fire department arrived five minutes ago. They are putting out a fire in your garage. I am urging you to calm down. Stop meditating immediately and get to the hospital.”

That inner voice sounded so kind and tender that I listened. It could have been that higher power that I was trying to reach through all this meditation. II took another deep breath, maybe my last, and called 9-1-1-. Lucky for me, I had practiced meditative techniques being on hold for the cable company for hours at a time.