I went to a Tibetan Bowl Sound Bath today. I’m sure 98% of you have no idea what I just said. Allow me to explain. A lady plays a bunch of metal Tibetan bowls and a couple of gongs for like an hour while you lay there and enjoy the sound “bath.” The particular gongs at today’s session were hand-hammered in India and tuned, get this, to the frequency of the planets Nibiru and Chiron. These “planets” are newly discovered and not widely recognized by the scientific community as being legit. So basically, it’s a $15 nap with music and a bunch of hippies.
About seven minutes in, the woman next to me started snoring. Not just the soft snoring of someone in savasana at the end of yoga. It was literally like sleeping next to a live whale. On land. One that was gasping, sputtering, honking, shuddering, wheezing and occasionally vocalizing.
Visions of brochures for sleep apnea fluttered beneath my eyelids while I struggled to make peace with this intrusion on my bath. Just moments earlier, I happily moved away from the dude who smelled like cigarettes and pot to make way for his girlfriend and lodged myself next to the Whale-Woman, thinking “she looks less distracting.” Little did I know, the universe was just fucking with me.
I tried to cover my right ear to take the edge off. I rolled over to physically reject the sound. Subsequently, my left arm, hip, leg, and foot fell asleep. Then I remembered that body parts don’t have ears. Well, except for ears.
There was one point where I thought I would leave. Just get up and go. “Be BOLD, woman!” I told myself. But then I remembered that I had paid $15. I couldn’t just march up to the Tibetan money bowl and pluck my $15 out. So I decided to suffer through it. Kind of like my marriage.
I dug deep on the namastes, telling myself “we’re all interconnected…the divine in you is the same as the divine in her…compassion…love…surrender.” Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about how she should really be propped up with a bolster and a block and perhaps enroll in a sleep clinic study. I blessed and WELCOMED the sound of a barking dog, the wind chimes out the window, the train blaring by. Anything that would help drown out the erratic, laborious sounds occurring 18 inches from my face. How was SHE able to sleep through her own racket?
At the end, the woman playing the gongs from another planet asked if anyone fell asleep. The entire room turned and looked at the Whale-Woman. She blissfully smiled and shook her head no. At that moment, I realized I had just paid $15 for blog content. Namaste.