We went to Berkeley Springs, West Virginia partly to "take the waters", but mostly as an excuse to get out of town.
Before our hydrotherapy appointment we browse the shops - buy earrings for Andrea and smell the soaps and incense. A Tibetan shop-owner welcomes us when we walk into Himalayan Handcrafts where a table of singing bowls are on display. I ask him to play one for us. I've tried before with poor results. He plays and then teaches me to hold the mallet firmly with a pencil grip. To trace the rim lightly, and when the sound arrives, to circle slower.
Melvin has his credit card. I have mine as well, but am not good with extravagances. Besides, this woo-woo stuff embarrasses me.
We play many bowls. I do not allow myself to look at prices. I only listen to the tones. Like a devil on my shoulder, my husband keeps asking, "Which one do you like?" Because I want them all, it becomes easy to justify buying just one. It's beginning to feel sinful not to buy three or seven. The tone from a small bowl penetrates my forehead. A different bowl vibrates my sternum.
I justify spending the money as an investment in my health. A spiritual prophylactic. In the mornings I will meditate and the pure tone will help carry my prayer.
My only effort will be to trace the empty bowl.