On a Sunday at the age of 8, I was taken to a mysterious activity my mother had coined as the "Classroom of the Heart," a name she made up just to make it easier for a child like me to understand. This wasn't the actual name of the activity.
As soon as I arrived, I plunged headfirst into the world of Doraemon. Then, I was called into the adjacent room, where I sat on a cushion and practiced seeing the aura emanating from my fingertips. My 8-year-old self was like, "Huh?"
But being a kid (maybe that's why?), I immediately tried to adapt, thinking, "The teacher says anyone can see it, so maybe I can too."
I didn't bother with questions like "Why are we doing this?" or "Who is this person? Are they telling the truth?" Instead, I just focused on the idea that seeing this 'aura' seemed fun.
Breathing... I think we did some kind of breathing exercise. Yeah, we did that. I took slow, deep breaths.
Then, focusing on my fingertips, I concentrated. I filled my belly with air and then let it flow to my fingertips, storing it there... Was this from the first session? Or was it later?
My memory is vague. Well, after all, this is an older lady recalling memories from when she was 8 years old.
After attending about six times, I never did see the colorful aura the teacher talked about. What I saw on my fingertips was just a blurry, white, smoky kind of movement, somewhere between smoke and oil, rising up. I remember thinking, "Aw, I can't see anything!"
Perhaps this "storing energy in your fingertips to see auras" was just a warm-up. After doing this each time, we would then proceed to the main event—exploring the 'Heart.'
(10.31.2016)
Comments