Once, my friend and I decided to practice gazing meditation. She was a skilled meditation teacher who had traveled to India and received something akin to an appreciation certificate from the Osho organization there.
We entered my room, sat on the bed, and locked eyes. We agreed to continue the meditation for at least an hour. As I looked into her eyes, I sensed her passion for food — a spiritual passion. In the room, there lay nearly a kilogram of bananas.
Suddenly, we found ourselves in the living room, eating bananas and laughing, but we couldn’t explain how we got there. This is the beauty of failed meditation.