A few months ago, during the European soccer championship, I surrendered to my wife. I agreed to participate in a spiritual event that had nothing to do with soccer, or making love…an evening of group meditation arranged by the Brahma Kumaris organization.
The event was on the same day of the hottest game of the championship: Russia Vs. Holland. To understand my sacrifice, this game was the alternative to having sex on the hot summer nights we had. Because if we needed to justify our lack of lust for our ladies, we deserved at least a hot soccer game on TV.
The evening session was supposed to end near the first half of the game. I calculated it in my mind…one minute for escaping the hall, two minutes at the parking lot, 7 minutes driving home at a forbidden speed and there I am, in my living room and in front of my unspiritual TV, just in time for the second half.
However, the event did not end as I planned.
I have a lot of respect, from afar, of my wife’s spiritual activities. Yoga and meditation are filling her days just as erotic art and gravitation are filling mine. I agreed to participate out of my deep and abiding love for her. We entered the hall. Right at the entrance I got a load of spirituality straight in my face. Hundreds of smiling women, dressed in shades of white. They seemed very happy, so I didn’t say a word. CD’s of soft music were offered for sale at a very soft and annoying price. Spiritual cakes were offered too, and they found their way to the lips of a sinner (mine). There was the scent of love and peace in the air, but I couldn’t smell it.
My mind started wondering about sex, what else. Surrounded by hundreds of women that had forgotten all about "it" (sex, what else), at least for this one evening. We sat in the first row and waited patiently and quietly for the 'show' to begin.
The stage was full of white spiritual women sitting in half a circle. Some were American, others Indians and they were all talking so quietly, asking us to step into a 'soft mood' and meditate together. I could accept that.
However, I couldn’t accept the beard issue.
Of the women.
Oh well, I thought why not. Women may have beards too right? Let them grow some hair. Above as well. They can do whatever they want. Indeed they did. The man on my right fell asleep at the moment they started the meditation. I gently woke him up. I guess I didn’t want him to miss the vision of that woman with the mustache talking to us.
You know, I’m an artist. I see the beauty in every woman. Fat, skinny, white, black, anything goes.
But a mustache? Above a woman’s lips?
Ok ...we're talking here about levels of spirituality. A sinner like me can't understand. It seems cool to me to be happy forever as those women suggest, but not for the price of neglecting your body and focusing on your spirit only. There are few activities I still need to check out during life, such as using my body rather than my spirit.
At the end of the show my now-ex wife wanted to talk with the spiritual women. At that point I realized there will be no soccer for me tonight. I waited another half an hour until she was done, then walked slowly to the parking lot, wondering about my miserable life. (or was it about sex, what else …)
I looked at our red car ...so unspiritual but oh so warm, got inside and drove home. Sad was the night, so sad.