Paying to Meditate

Grace even when there is no quality control.

Like any woman who is happily divorced, has three or more decks of tarot cards, and a pile of purple crystals she hoarded during the pandemic, I set an intention to meditate every morning this year.

I pay for the Chopra app (now called Presence because I think there might be some sketchiness with Chopra?… He was one of Oprah’s gurus, and that’s proven to be a whole thing…but I’m still obsessed with her and everything she’s ever touched…so…)

I am typically out of bed with a spare 15 minutes before I need to do anything like wake the kids or get to the gym, so there is no excuse for why I shouldn’t meditate - It’s scientifically proven to do good things for the mind, I know I have a better day when I do, it causes no harm at all. Net net, meditating is a good thing and this post is not here to debate that. It’s good. Period. No debate. Meditating is Good.

Agreed?

Good.

As it is 2025, I figured I’d start out the year by doing a New Year Vision Setting series hosted by Roger Gabriel - my favorite teacher on the app - to begin the year.

I didn’t start on the 1st with my meditation series, and I offered myself GRACE - oodles of it- I’ve mastered the art of GRACE (probably through meditation over the years) and so as of today I was only on meditation 3, even though we are eight days in the year. I’m not perfect, and so, GRACE. So much GRACE offered to myself.

I’m abundant with the offering of GRACE to me.

So far the other two meditations have been fine - “letting things go”, and “setting intentions”. If that isn’t a great way to start the new year, I don’t know what is, therefore, I kept going with this series.

This morning, Roger greeted me with his British accent and a lovely “Happy New Year”.

Then he welcomed me to 2021.

Motherfucker.

2021?

That’s fucking sloppy.

Did no one listen to these old recordings before posting them to the world of perfectionist women sitting in their amethyst laden lairs offering themselves GRACE for this that and the other thing hoping to grab 13 minutes of bliss on their Presence app so that later, when they get coffee with the gals, they can show off their superiority that they meditated that day?

My day was derailed with the reality that it started with Roger Gabriel welcoming me back to 2021, undeniably the worst year of my life.

2021 was a personal pit of putrid devastating hell, and despite my every attempt to bury it deep down with the worms now that I am on the other side of it, I was reminded today that there is actually no getting away from the past.

Not even a daily meditation which includes the presence of my black cat, tarot cards and crystal totems will erase the feeling of vinegar in a wound when I am reminded of an era that subconsciously haven’t fully wrapped my arms around yet.

2021 was the year that I tried.

2021 was the year after all the years where I held out hope, I decided it was now or never.

Eventually, in 2021, I was confronted with the resounding reality punch in the gut that it was actually going to be never.

2021 was the year I read the poem “The Journey” by Mary Oliver and the line

“But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save”

made a huge lump stick in my throat every time I rolled that emotional marble around in my brain.

2021 was the year that I met myself - my true self - and determined that I would be brave, even if it was treacherously hard.

I’ve been attempting to meditate my way out of 2021 ever since.

So this morning, as I sat cross legged, attempting to bliss out in 2025 filled with purpose and intention, I zoomed back to 2021 Kim, sitting cross legged in a different room, attempting to meditate herself out of a completely different heart wrenching paradigm.

I WAS PISSED!

Roger, how could you? I pay for this! I pay for the Presence App.

So meditating, even though we all agreed is a good thing, didn’t do what it was supposed to today.

Today, meditating brought me agitation. Today, Presence, and it’s lack of quality control reminded me that the past is actually right at our finger tips whether we realize we’re stepping into it or not.

I finished that time warp dystopian meditation, grit my teeth and made coffee, which I brought upstairs to my boyfriend, who was still sleeping.

Not knowing what had happened downstairs, he tucked me under his arm and pulled me into him like a little spoon and kissed the back of my head and sighed a sleepy sigh of relief that sounded like “I’m glad you’re back”. One of our primary love languages is words of affirmation, and we affirmed.

Since then, I’ve been working. I spent the day sitting in my quiet cozy home with my black cat, banging at my computer keys and eating homemade Chicken Noodle Soup. I paid a few bills and did my finances and I ran a load in my dishwasher. There are wind chimes outside of my neighbors house that have been tingling like a magic fairy song all day in the raging wind. I’ve been here a year, and I don’t think I’ve ever noticed them before.

It’s 2025, no matter what Roger says.

Roger, today, despite the discomfort of being brought back so close to what I’ve tried to leave behind, I will offer you some GRACE.

Presence, please update your app.