I am at a narrative healing retreat at The Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health, seated on a meditation cushion, in the aptly named Elm View Room, looking out the window at elms, and onto the hills of the Berkshires beyond, when I receive the following writing prompt:
What got you here?
I immediately fantasize about writing a listicle, 42 Reasons I am at Kripalu but Sleeping At The Marriott Courtyard, and having it published by McSweeney’s. In this fantasy, my listicle would be the most poignant listicle they ever published. It would simultaneously win most-funny and most-vulnerable listicle of 2019 — since funny and vulnerable make such nice bedfellows. I would win at listicles. I would make it into a listicle of the best listicles.
In my fantasies I tend to do everything hoping to win even when there is no winning. Perhaps that is why in real life I often give everything my all. I always want to bring my A-game. It is an exhausting way to be, and it runs counter to why I am at a writing retreat at Kripalu.
So instead of writing a winning listicle, I have kept it simple, and wrote a short essay conveying the most underwhelming of truths. I am here at Kripalu, an ashram turned wellness center, shelling out big bucks and struggling with ayurvedic-induced digestive issues, because I am desperately seeking boredom.
