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Description
The silence in the room was deafening. The group gathered there sat in rows on the floor, almost perfectly still, breathing quietly. That was what she presumed was going on, at least.

For nearly 4 years now, she hadn't been able to hear a thing. She wasn't quite sure why, either. She remembered being curled up in a ball on the floor, covering her ears from a horrendous screech that she heard in her dreams even now. They weren't quite sure what was wrong with her ears - she didn't have any ringing in her ears or anything like that. And still she couldn't hear a thing.

The group began to meditate. A man was stood at the front of the group - his voice, she vaguely remembered, had been soft and kind, or maybe she'd just imagined that - and he spoke to them, leading them in the meditation. She'd studied his books before, knew exactly which meditation he was leading them in.

She began to visualise a beach. Golden sand, with rocks a bit further back near the cliffs. The sea broke gentle waves against the very edge of the sand, just washing up to her feet. It was cold, slightly bubbly. It smelled lovely - she hadn't had the chance to go to the beach in years but here she was, in her own imagination.

She spent a minute there, just feeling the sea wash over her feet, and then stood up. Slowly, she began to walk towards the cliff - tall, imposing, and made of white, white rock - where she would find a cave. The sand under her feet shifted gently, and glancing back, she could see her footprints. The sand itself was dry, and stuck to her - it was a sunny day, warm enough she could wear a flowing, knee-length light grey dress. She wore nothing else, no shoes on her feet, no bangles or necklaces or anything else. Her hair blew in the wind - strong, robbing her of some of the warmth but the sun quickly replaced that.

She approached the cliffs, and found herself treading on the stones that made up the cliff-end of the beach. She ducked her head down a little - and stepped into the cave.

It was dark, and dank, and she was sure there would be water dripping somewhere in the cave. She walked further in, feeling its moist clinginess stick to her skin and her lungs. The stone was now sharp under her feet, and the wall she ran her hand across was ruggedly uneven. She knew the leader would be stood at the front of the group, reciting to them about how the cave represented their mind, and how at some point they would find a shining rock which would answer a question they were trying to remember whilst imagining everything.

She'd always had very good visualisation and compartmentalisation. She could see, feel, smell and even taste the world around her, but she knew also that the people back in the room she was physically in were still there.

And soon she found it. The small, glistening rock - a pearl, her mind said - that would answer a question she was thinking of. But she didn't do the meditation to find answers - she did it because it was fun and new and different and a whole heap of other words she couldn't quite think of just yet.

She sat down on the rocky floor, with the pearl in her hands. She held it up to her ear and - just for a second - she thought she heard something. A tinkling, like a bell, sweet and high-pitched and so, so angelic. She held the pearl to her ear some more, hoping - desperately hoping - that she could hear it again. For if she could hear in her meditations, she could feel free again. Free from the oppression of having to look at someone and read their lips whilst trying to work out what they say. And she would love it.

Description
The silence in the room was deafening. The group gathered there sat in rows on the floor, almost perfectly still, breathing quietly. That was what she presumed was going on, at least.

For nearly 4 years now, she hadn't been able to hear a thing. She wasn't quite sure why, either. She remembered being curled up in a ball on the floor, covering her ears from a horrendous screech that she heard in her dreams even now. They weren't quite sure what was wrong with her ears - she didn't have any ringing in her ears or anything like that. And still she couldn't hear a thing.

The group began to meditate. A man was stood at the front of the group - his voice, she vaguely remembered, had been soft and kind, or maybe she'd just imagined that - and he spoke to them, leading them in the meditation. She'd studied his books before, knew exactly which meditation he was leading them in.

She began to visualise a beach. Golden sand, with rocks a bit further back near the cliffs. The sea broke gentle waves against the very edge of the sand, just washing up to her feet. It was cold, slightly bubbly. It smelled lovely - she hadn't had the chance to go to the beach in years but here she was, in her own imagination.

She spent a minute there, just feeling the sea wash over her feet, and then stood up. Slowly, she began to walk towards the cliff - tall, imposing, and made of white, white rock - where she would find a cave. The sand under her feet shifted gently, and glancing back, she could see her footprints. The sand itself was dry, and stuck to her - it was a sunny day, warm enough she could wear a flowing, knee-length light grey dress. She wore nothing else, no shoes on her feet, no bangles or necklaces or anything else. Her hair blew in the wind - strong, robbing her of some of the warmth but the sun quickly replaced that.

She approached the cliffs, and found herself treading on the stones that made up the cliff-end of the beach. She ducked her head down a little - and stepped into the cave.

It was dark, and dank, and she was sure there would be water dripping somewhere in the cave. She walked further in, feeling its moist clinginess stick to her skin and her lungs. The stone was now sharp under her feet, and the wall she ran her hand across was ruggedly uneven. She knew the leader would be stood at the front of the group, reciting to them about how the cave represented their mind, and how at some point they would find a shining rock which would answer a question they were trying to remember whilst imagining everything.

She'd always had very good visualisation and compartmentalisation. She could see, feel, smell and even taste the world around her, but she knew also that the people back in the room she was physically in were still there.

And soon she found it. The small, glistening rock - a pearl, her mind said - that would answer a question she was thinking of. But she didn't do the meditation to find answers - she did it because it was fun and new and different and a whole heap of other words she couldn't quite think of just yet.

She sat down on the rocky floor, with the pearl in her hands. She held it up to her ear and - just for a second - she thought she heard something. A tinkling, like a bell, sweet and high-pitched and so, so angelic. She held the pearl to her ear some more, hoping - desperately hoping - that she could hear it again. For if she could hear in her meditations, she could feel free again. Free from the oppression of having to look at someone and read their lips whilst trying to work out what they say. And she would love it.