Publish and Perish, part 32: A moment of withdrawal from the world

[Context: read the previous part or start at the beginning. TW: bad amateur fiction!]

Gerald sat still in his office chair, his mind spinning. Herb Stevens was gone. He also had to tweak tomorrow’s lecture, he had a manuscript review to finish, he had to prep for the next meeting of the Faculty-Student Honor Committee, and a student would be stopping by this afternoon to inquire about doing research in his lab this coming summer.

He felt guilty for mentally lumping these quotidian concerns together with Herb’s sudden death. “Sorry, Herb,” he said glumly to himself.

For many years — dating back to way before his accident —  Gerald had periodically had the thought that he could benefit from some form of meditation. But he had never felt drawn to any of the formats he had heard about. Clearing his mind to focus on, say, his breathing? That always seemed boring and silly. But at the moment, as his mind ping-ponged crazily between Herb and these other worries, he again wondered whether meditation was something he should be doing.

Too bad he had never asked Herb, a regular meditator, for advice about this. What might Herb have said?

Just then he heard Herb’s voice inside his head. It was as calm as ever.

“What feels right to YOU, Gerry? Do you want to close your eyes?”

Gerald closed his eyes. That felt good. He kept them closed, and he nodded. His breathing started to get slower and deeper.

“Good,” the voice of Herb intoned gently. “This can be as simple as you want, Gerry. You don’t have to focus on your breathing. You don’t have to erase everything from your mind.” Gerald nodded again. “You don’t have to follow anyone else’s protocol!” There was a slight giggle at the word protocol and then a thoughtful pause. “You don’t even have to call it meditation. Just give yourself a moment of peace.”

Gerald kept his eyes closed. His breathing remained deep.

“All right, Herb,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Gerald remained in his quasi-meditative state for five minutes, then sat up and wrote a short but heartfelt email of condolence to Herb’s partner.

[Update: the story continues with part 33.]