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  • Writer's pictureArian

Classroom of the Heart, Part 1: My Meditation Experience at Age 8

This is a story about a slightly unusual activity I was taken to by my mother only about 6 times during my childhood. It happened when I was eight years old.


One Saturday afternoon, out of the blue, my mother said, "Tomorrow we're going to the 'Heart's Classroom!"


"The Heart's Classroom?"


I had no clue what she meant.


"What's that?" I asked her.


"It's something good for you. You'll learn how to control your own heart," she replied.

I still didn't quite get it.


Then the next day, on Sunday morning, we took a train and arrived at a place—an ordinary apartment building with an outside staircase. Inside, it was maybe a 2DK layout; my childhood memories make it a bit fuzzy. As we entered, there was a kitchen and a dining area with a low table and for some reason, the shelves were filled with Doraemon manga.


Was that the teacher? I thought the lady there might be the teacher. (To an eight-year-old, she seemed like an "auntie" back then... she might have been in her 40s, but maybe she was still in her 30s?)


There were about five young adults, probably in their 20s and 30s, whom I assumed were students. (Maybe one or two of them were staff, but I wasn't paying much attention to those details back then, so I'm not sure.)


Initially, we all sat around the low table, sipping tea and chatting. However, the adults quickly pointed out, "Look, there's lots of manga here!" As an eight-year-old, I immediately got absorbed into the world of Doraemon, so I have no recollection of what the adults talked about. They didn't mind me lying behind the table, reading manga. In fact, they encouraged it, saying things like, "You can relax here, lie down and read. Want some juice?" It felt like a nice place.


Now that I think about it, maybe those manga were there to keep the kids occupied so the adults could talk undisturbed. Does that mean other kids used to come here too? I never saw any other kids there.


When the chatting session ended, the adults moved to the next room.


The next room was probably a combination of a 6-tatami and a 4.5-tatami room separated by sliding doors, both traditional Japanese rooms. There was no furniture except for cushions on the floor where the teacher sat, facing the students, who also sat on cushions. The seating arrangement was scattered around the room to ensure nobody's arms would bump into each other. I think.


Again, initially, while the teacher seemed to be explaining something in the room, I was left in the manga room, engrossed in my comics.


After a while, something like a "training session" began, and I was called into the room as well. As I entered, all the adults sitting on cushions smiled warmly at me. They were generally cheerful and nice people.


My mother was also seated towards the back of the room. For her too, this was the first time.


Since I hadn't received any explanation, I had no idea what was going on. I just placed a cushion in front of the teacher as directed and sat down.


"You can sit however you like. Just make yourself comfortable," said the kind lady teacher with a smile.


"Okay then, let's begin," she said cheerfully.


The first thing we did, from what I remember, was probably:


"Concentrating aura energy on our fingertips and practicing to see it."


At least, that's what I think it was.



(10.31.2016)





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