trying to win at mindfulness.I sat in my purple bedroom, surrounded by the accoutrements of an aspiring maximalist Buddhist witch, and tried to meditate.
To describe my first time meditating as torture would be generous. My legs and back ached. My school uniform itched. It was like regular life, just quiet and dark, yet full of chatter about how I was doing it all wrong.Eventually, I caved and let Emily take me to church.
As much as I feared the part where I was going to hell, I craved the belonging and the ritual of a spiritual life. I dressed the way I thought I was supposed to dress for church: it probably involved tights.
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