I was sitting on the couch in the lobby of my meditation center, watching people walk by, to practice loving them. Yes, I was high.
A mom walked by, carrying a baby on one side and guiding a toddler on the other. And I thought, “She’s such a good mom. So patient. She really loves those kids.” One after another, people passed by and I found reasons to love them. I found it was easy.
But then, a really fat guy walked by. Then, a drunk, homeless guy. A woman with french tipped nails, caked in makeup, clutching an expensive purse. My chest tightened and my face hardened. These people weren’t so easy to love. I tried. But I couldn’t.