Lie down on the ground and close your eyes. Stretch your legs in front of you, stretch your arms above your head. Take a deep breath through your nose and exhale. Take another.
Imagine a warm light enters your feet and makes its way up your body, relaxing each area it touches: ankles, knees, (private area), rib cage, shoulders, and so on. Feel your entire body become warm and relaxed. Feel the ground beneath you completely supporting your weight. Inhale deeply and feel the air enter your lungs. Upon its release, feel any tension lingering in your body leave with it. For a few moments, focus only on your breath.
When you feel completely relaxed, please, join me on this journey.
Imagine you are standing at the edge of a lush forest. The wind rustling in the trees is the only sound and, as you stand absorbing the wooded peace (TWSS), the rustling seems to call you to action. Wordlessly you take out your iPhone and check Twitter. What’s this? What’s this? You fall into a deeper state of relaxation as photos from the Gilmore Girls set seemingly confirm the still-only-rumored Gilmore Girls Netflix reunion.
You are transported, suddenly but peacefully, to a soundstage in Los Angeles.
Imagine the warm Los Angeles sun beating down on your face. Imagine the warm Los Angeles smog filling your lungs, calling your body and mind to a smog-induced stillness. You see John Stamos. “Hello, John Stamos,” you say, and you congratulate him — in a way you fear is somewhat dishonest but is still from the heart — on his career resurgence. In the distance you see Miss Patty’s Dance Studio. The path to Miss Patty’s Dance Studio is clear. You step toward it.
The soundstage is silent. You would think you might want to imagine the Gilmore Girls theme song but you don’t — it’s quiet. You step into the dance studio. You take a look around. Ah, yes — you feel at peace; you remember this dance studio from when Rory and Dean fell asleep in here after prom. It is comfortable and familiar. Oh no. You think about Dean. For a moment you are almost shaken from your meditation-induced peace. Uh-oh. Dean. I encourage you at this moment to step out of the dance studio. A peaceful bird, or some sort of a tree, calls you to Kim’s Antiques.
You step into Kim’s Antiques. Remember when Emily bought a cigar humidor from here for Richard? Remember when Dean met Richard — ah, dangit. You step out of Kim’s Antiques.
In the distance you see a bench on which you may sit for a few moments. You look at the peaceful bluish Los Angeles sky. You hear babbling water, or another sound that relaxes you. Mmm. You feel at peace with the fake world around you.
Doose’s Market. The words enter your mind, dreamily, and you don’t resist. Doose’s Market. Doose’s Market. Doose’s Market. Suddenly the market appears in your vision and you are drawn to it. You are moving but expending no effort. Are you floating? Yes. You close your eyes and soon you begin to sense a gentle presence ahead of you.
You open your eyes and, standing about ten feet from you is — my god — a breathtaking doe. Wow. A Doose’s doe. Incredible. You walk toward the doe and it stands there, awaiting you: strong, beautiful, brave.
As you get closer and the doe becomes a clearing in your sights and — oh god. That’s no doe at all.
That doe is Dean. Fucking DEAN.
You step back from Dean and with each step you take backward you return to conscious awareness of the room in which your body exists: the ground beneath you — deep breath — the sounds of passing cars — deep breath — the scent of your neighbors who smoke inside of their apartment even though that is not allowed — deep breath through mouth.
And now, my friend, you have returned. Your peace from the Los Angeles soundstage remains with you; it becomes part of you; you carry it through all you might tackle — Dean or otherwise.