The first meditation class I ever took was a one-off, free-of-charge, two-hour deal through the continuing education department at the University of Washington. I rode the city bus there from my studio apartment one Tuesday evening after hiking home from my office manager job, changing out of my stiff business suit into ripped jeans and a flannel shirt, and wolfing down my standard bagel-and-beer dinner. Only this time, in consideration of the meditation class, I made it one beer instead of…
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