“I left her at home in her crate.” He would only be away for about an hour.
“Want to get started?”
He followed her into her office, where two meditation cushions sat on the floor in front of a sliding glass door that faced the mountains.
She lit some incense. “How is your day going?”
Conrad sat on one of the cushions. “A reporter ambushed me outside my house yesterday. I refused to answer his questions, and we had a confrontation.”
He hadn’t meant to bring this up, but now that he’d started, the words wouldn’t stop. He told her what the reporter had said and how the bastard had filmed him. “Then, last night, he took photos of Kenzie when she came over, and he put those on his website, too. She kept me from punching the bastard. We called the sheriff, and the kid is now in the county jail on drug charges.”
Esri sat beside him. “I can’t blame you for feeling angry. What he did must have felt like a violation to both you and Kenzie.”
“She handled it better than I did.”
“She might have less at stake here than you do. That reporter was asking you to share your private pain with his readers.”
“Yeah.” Conrad could see that. “My agent called. She says the media are going to keep coming until I give them what they want. Apparently, one of my gear sponsors is ready to dump a lot of money into my bank account if I go on TV and do an interview about what happened. She thinks I should do it.”
“How do you feel about it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know why people need the details. A serac fell. It killed two young climbers and my best friend. Why do they need more?”
“If I could answer that question, I’d write a book and get rich.” Esri gave him a gentle smile. “That said, I don’t think you should do anything you’re not ready to do, no matter how much money is involved. You need to take care of that part of yourself that is grieving.”
Conrad realized he was dangerously close to falling down the rabbit hole. “Sorry. I don’t want to waste your time.”
“You’re not wasting my time. If I were in your shoes, I would want to talk about what happened, too. For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing by calling the sheriff.”
Conrad let the subject go. “So how do we do this? I’ve only ever done meditation in the Dokhang with the monks leading.”
“Tell me about that.”
Conrad described the mantras, the chanting, the music, the scents. “I sat in the corner and chanted along with them.”
“Why don’t the two of us try chanting the Shakyamuni mantra together?”
“Okay.” Conrad sat in a lotus position and closed his eyes.
“Relax and let your thoughts drift by like clouds. You wouldn’t hold onto a cloud, so don’t hold onto your thoughts.” Then she started. “Om muni muni maha muni shakyamuni soha.”
Her voice was so different from the low, guttural voices of the monks that it made Conrad smile. He pulled himself together and joined in, ignoring the strangeness of attempting this in Esri’s office. “Om muni muni maha muni shakyamuni soha.”
It took a few minutes, but slowly the familiar chant began to relax his mind, worry and grief lifting like a fog, his body floating. Emptiness. Peace.
All too soon, it was over.
“Thanks so much for coming, Conrad.” Esri got to her feet, stretched. “It’s really special for me to share some part of your experience at Tengboche.”
Conrad opened his eyes. “Thanks for inviting me. Can we do this again?”
“I meditate at noon every day. You’re always welcome.”
Feeling lighter than he had when he’d arrived, he stood and picked up the cushions, setting them on top a stack of cushions in the corner.
“Thanks.” She put out the incense. “Got any exciting plans for the afternoon?”
“I’m meeting Kenzie at her place and making dinner. After yesterday, it’s the least I can do.”
