Pink Park Bench

Put off your meditation for an hour.

Blow out fragrant candles. Switch off calming music. Cover the crystals.

Put on sneakers. Shut the front door. Walk down town. Head for a stretch of green grass. Find a pink park bench.

Sit on it. Stay awhile.

The benefits are amazing.

First, take a deep breath of fresh free air. Let it out when you feel like it. Take another. Release. Keep doing this so you don’t die, but don’t think about it too much.

Notice what’s around.

Lots of high blue sky today. Wispy clouds of whimsy and a milky morning moon. A spotty dog barks. Magpies call. Pram and scooter wheels thrum along the concrete path. Lovers linger.

Sunshine bounces off your eyeballs. The smell of warm grass floods your nose. Green leaves rustle in a light wind, playing shadow games on your cheeks.

You sense the bench boards creak as I lower myself beside you.

Yep, that’s right. You have to be prepared to share this bench with anyone who comes along. It’s a length of public sitting space, built by the city for its citizens.

Out of the corner of my eye I see you edge away, increasing the distance between us. But that’s okay. There’s no law I know of saying you can’t do that.

So, how are you feeling now? Are those hardwood planks at your back highlighting every bone in your spine? Are the three slats supporting your posterior now pressing into thigh muscle and flesh, making you wish you were somewhere else?

Park benches aren’t built for comfort. Just convenience and connection.

You can go now, if you want. Back to your house on the hill with the special mat, specific music, scented flames and spirit tools.

I’ll stay here a little longer. A pink park bench does good things with my soul.