My invisibility cloak definitely did not work this morning.
It’s day 35 of my 41 day morning meditation practice, and for the past week I’ve been sitting on a tiny patch of earth on the edge of Union Square doing my mantras. At 4 am.
(Want the background? Read my blog post: Why I’m Getting Up at 4 am Everyday for 41 Days… http://heatherashamara.com/im-getting-4-every-morning-41-days/)
For the first six days nobody saw me. Even at that hour the swirl that is New York City was impressive: delivery trucks, shop owners, homeless people, cops, random people walking or sitting everywhere. And one lone woman sitting still, wrapped in a poncho, connecting to the land beneath her.
But, I swear, I was invisible. Until today.
It’s Monday of Labor Day weekend, which must mean the Monday morning of no sleep here. People everywhere, talking, laughing, hailing cabs loudly, congregating in large groups on the corners.
And noticing me, apparently.
“Hey, what are you doing? Gypsy girl! Gypsy girl! What are you going?”
I just keep doing the super mysterious thing I am doing — sitting still — and he moves on.
And then a bit later: “Hey lady, do you want some chips?”
The voice of a young man. Earnest. And then he’s gone, too.
Eyes closed I keep meditating, mala beads in the right, touching the earth with the left, as the currents flow around and through me.
The exquisite, slow pulsing stillness of the granite rock that lies beneath me. The cool force of the wind from the nearby hurricane caressing my face. My body dissolving and becoming a flame. A stereo system so loud that I have a hard time holding on to the mantra in the face of such fierce blast of sound.
When I finally open my eyes there is a single bag of potato chips laid at my feet. (My favorite food, besides chocolate, is potato chips. Seriously!)
Thank you, I whisper to the city. I love you, too.