We’ve all been there. You’re focusing on your breathing, trying to attain a heightened level of consciousness, but you’re pulled out of it every time your guided meditation instructor says “marinate” instead of “meditate.”
It’s like WTF, guy! Get your words straight! You’re here to reach enlightenment, not to sit in a liquid that imparts flavor! If you’re anything like us, whenever the guided meditation instructor says “marinate” instead of “meditate” you can’t help but feel…
Like, WTF…Does He Not Realize He’s Doing That?
Does he not know? Is that maybe how he actually thinks “meditate” is pronounced? (And if so, how has no one ever corrected him, after all these years?) Could he maybe be having a stroke? Fuck. This is the worst.
And then it’s like…
Okay, so after assessing the rest of his motor functions/phonetic speaking abilities, it seems like this is decidedly not a stroke-out situation. So like, I guess that means the whole “marinate” thing is intentional/he really doesn’t know?
But Then You’re Like, WTF…Is The Instructor Planning On Eating Us?
The thought always sounds super crazy, right? But isn’t it just a little believable that the guided meditation instructor didn’t confuse two words that sound vaguely alike? That when he wants you to “marinate and become infused with the essence of your surroundings” he’s literally talking about, like, teriyaki sauce?
But then you convince yourself that he can’t possibly want to marinate and eat his entire guided meditation class. That’s like 10 people whose trails all end at the same location. Plus, the space he’s renting out in this strip mall doesn’t have a refrigerator or a kitchen. People will notice if he drags 10 delectably seasoned bodies to a second location for chopping and freezing, and there’s no way you’re all fitting in the trunk of his 2001 Kia Sephia. You’re being nutzo!
But Then It’s All Like, WTF…DID HE JUST MENTION A LITERAL BOTTLE OF MARINADE?
Ugh! That’s the last thing you need. C’mon, dude. If you’re going to eat the whole class, the least you could do is toss out that bottle of sugary pre–made corporate marinade and whisk together a little red wine vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, olive oil, and a collection of spices to give us a proper marinating. Might sound bougie but my long pig flesh needs to be treated with high-class respect. Be a Hannibal Lecter, not a Jeffrey Dahmer! Also, wait, I’m still being crazy, no? Like definitely spiraling.
However, Eventually, You’re Like, Okay WTF…You’re Really Talking About Eating Us
Life is stressful. You came here to O.D. on serenity and Nag Champa. The only thing you want to hear come out of this guy’s mouth is him telling the class to imagine a tree within us made of light that has roots in our hearts and bears fruit in our minds. You paid for spirit tree but now you’re getting “think of yourself surrounded by roasted potatoes and asparagus” and “feel yourself being enveloped by the soothing warmth of a mushroom wine sauce seasoned with a sprig of thyme.” He’s also now wielding a large butcher’s knife and telling all you “little piggies” to keep “marinating in silence.”
Then he hits that meditation gong thing but this time it sounds different because it’s not a gong—it’s a large sheet pan for roasting. The worst.
Finally, You’re, Like, WTF…I Didn’t Know I Had Such A Sharply Honed Instinct For Doing Whatever It Takes To Survive
It’s, like, who’d a thunk it, right? You came here intent on instilling in yourself the tools necessary to cope with the hardships of life. You just didn’t think you’d learn it all in your first class after you made the cannibalistic guided meditation instructor fall on his own butcher’s knife when you wrestled him to the ground. And now that you’ve reached full self actualization (and the instructor is dead) you don’t even have to pay $75 a week to sit on the floor and hum.