June Newsletter
   March 31, 2014         |    Santa Barbara, California                  


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Friday night at the Arlington the Mick’s Macs team was in attendance for the Deepak Chopra talk. It was inspirational enough that I decided to meditate for the first time early this morning.

I found a quiet room in the house, closed myself off and started chanting as instructed by Oprah’s website. Apparently she’s a big fan of meditation and Deepak so that’s where my wife directed me for instructions. I’m not normally the type of guy that reads instructions, but I scan them quickly and get the gist. Hey, how hard can it be?



“O.m.g. my back hurts,” I say to the empty room. Somewhere it is said that talking to yourself is a clear sign of insanity, but with plenty of other supporting evidence in my gene pool, I’ve never let it bother me.

Just need to find a pillow or something as I’m sure my right buttock has fallen asleep. I locate a pillow to sit on and two more to prop against the wall. I crack my knuckles.

I am ready to meditate.

“Alrighty then,” I say aloud. “Much better. Om…. Om…. Om…”

I keep chanting that way for about 10 long seconds till I realize my toes are FREEZING. I get up to get a blanket from another room, return and begin again. Oprah’s website said something about noticing your body as you meditate. All I notice is that the blanket has made my legs start to sweat, but my toes are still frozen. Socks. Socks are the call. I get up again, careful to avoid contact with any early morning family members, and return with a pair of socks.

“Ahhhhh… That’s better.”

Pillows all arranged, toes definitely warming up and no obvious source of pain in my body. Cozy!

“Om… Om… Om…”

Man, I’m really good at this stuff. I feel super relaxed and mighty peaceful. I wonder why I haven’t tried this before. I might just be a natural meditator. Maybe I have a gift. People (well, my wife) talk about meditation and say how hard it is to empty your mind of everything and find the peace. But I’m already there. I walk around most of the day with nothing in my head. This is easy. I should probably start teaching the stuff. Maybe I’m just this crazy, natural guru, way more evolved than I appear. I should probably let Oprah know. I’ll give her the first interview and bring my gift to the world. This state of peaceful beingness makes me feel humble. I bet I’m totally wise too.

Wisdom check.

Just be.

Whoa. Did I just say that?  Just be.  I’m spouting pearls!

Wow, I’m actually rising now! This is so awesome. I’m just floating out the window and getting in a limo with Beyonce. She and I go way back several lifetimes. She’s always been drawn to my deep wisdom and peaceful countenance. She wants to know if I’ll write some enlightened lyrics for her new album I inspired called [wait for it]: Meditation. Would I mind phoning my close friend Sting and see if he’d be willing to do a tune together? Of course I wouldn’t mind. I’m feeling extremely magnanimous. I tell Beyonce not to worry, and phone him right away. I’m smiling a blissful smile her way as I ring his cell.

Sting picks up and says, “Pops, what are you doing?”

Wait. What?…

“Pops! What are you doing?”

I open my eyes to see my 10-year old boy looking down on me.

“Um, what? Oh. I was meditating.”

“Meditating? Lying down?”

Hmm… Apparently he’s right. I sit up and lean against the wall again, wiping a small amount of drool off the corner of my mouth.

“It’s called a lying down meditation. Very advanced sort of thing. Don’t try it until you’re an advanced meditator like me.”

“Pops, you were snoring so loud Mama sent me in here before the neighbors called the police again.”

“Advanced meditators call it chanting,” I counter.

“Sounded like a pig farm. Who is Sting?”

“Can I help you with something?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Honorable Son. Are you just going to stand there?”

“I wanna see you fall asleep and fall over again.”

“Grasshopper, meditating is something best done alone. Please gently depart so I can find my inner peace again.”

“Okay, Pops. Whatever you say. Enjoy your meditation time.” He puts air quotes around ‘meditation.’ He’s seriously into air quotes and sarcasm these days and uses them indiscriminately with every other sentence.

Back to meditating. I get all set up again and begin to chant.

“Om… Om… Om…”

I get back into the groove straightaway. My Kung Fu is very strong. I am pleased with myself.  How quickly I return to my inner peace. I’m sure it’s another sign I’ve been chosen and blessed with this gift. I’m deep in when the door opens again.

“I’m not sleeping!”

“Didn’t say you were,” my wife says. “Sorry to bother you, but I hear the garbage truck coming and you promised to get the recycling out.”

“Oh, dang. Sorry about that.” I get up, sprint through the house collecting the recycling, get it all in the blue bins and rush them to the street just in time. I head back to the house, when my phone rings. Man, busy morning. It’s a blocked number, but I answer anyway.

“Mick, is that you? Mick! Mate, you called me?”



“Ha! You never called me ‘sweetie’ before. Shall I call you Roxanne?”

“Sweetie, you were snoring again,” my wife says.

And there I am with on the floor with another family member standing over my prostrate position. [Sigh] Okay. So maybe this meditation thing will take a little more practice.

Never fear. At Mick’s Macs, we drink lots of coffee when we work with you or your machine. Caffeine is our mantra.

All the best,

Mick (and Deepak)