Mood: Transcendent. Temporarily.
This morning I decided to embrace stillness. A radical act for a man of motion, momentum, and multiple unfinished memoirs. I was told by a suspiciously calm intern that meditation “reduces stress and cultivates awareness.” I, of course, already possess both in dangerous excess.
Nevertheless, I tried it.
Boris’ First (and Possibly Last) Guided Meditation
I sat cross-legged (eventually), closed my eyes, and played a track called “Gentle Wind Through Bamboo.” It sounded like my childhood lawnmower failing to start. But I pressed on.
I was told to “focus on my breath.” Done. Then to “let go of thoughts.”
Impossible.
My brain erupted in a flurry of national anthems, speech quotes, and a very vivid mental image of me wrestling a bear for diplomacy.
I opened my eyes seven minutes later to discover I had:
- Accidentally drafted a speech,
- Eaten half a croissant,
- And mentally rewritten Article 50 to include footnotes and a theme song.
Tranquillity? No. But productivity? Tremendous.
Final Insight
Meditation, it seems, is not for everyone. Some are meant to connect with the universe. Others are meant to interrupt it.
If I ever try it again, I’ll bring a foghorn. Just to keep the silence in check.
Quote of the Day:
“Silence is golden—but noise gets the headlines.”
– Boris Trump, while reorganising his thoughts with a megaphone
Tomorrow I plan to fix the national energy grid using only optimism and a whisk. Watch this space.
Eternally loud,
Boris Trump
Enlightened disruptor. Inner peace optional.