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Why This Duck Fails At Calm App Meditations

Duck is meditating, flippers in the air, a sticky note saying "Do not ducking disturb" on his butt
Duck, meditating


This duck was alight to hear the results of the election. But the days leading up to it were ducking stressful. That's why, desperately needing to chill the duck out, I decided to meditate on the pond—safely wearing my beak-mask, of course.

But you know what they do in those Calm App meditations? In the background, they play the sounds of birds and rippling water. It's de-ducking-lightful.

Problem is, when this duck hears the sound of birds and rippling water, he's usually paddling around on the pond. So, during the meditation, eyes closed, I auto-paddle. Which, it turns out, is a great way to calmly end up embedded, beak-first, in the sludgy edge of the pond.

Duck-darn, this beak-brain was stuck. It took Swan Juan, Head of Emergency Pond Services, twenty minutes to de-beak me.

So, the next time I meditated, I did so on the couch—the rose-print couch that my partner Peacock Riley chose a year ago. But I'm still on the Calm App, and there's still the ducking sound of birds and water in the background, so your truly auto-paddles again. And when I'm done with the meditation, sure, I haven't moved. But the rose-print under my flippers is a wee bit fainter, as if the sun's been shining on that patch for thirteen years.

Flipper-burn, we call it. My flippers had paddled like fire.

In response to the worn-away patch, Peaock Riley put the "peeved" in "peacock." They're very, very particular about soft furnishings. So now, when we sit on the couch, I have to settle my butt right over the faded patch, so as not to interrupt Riley's view of the Laura Ashley patterning.

This way, Riley's happy, and if I use enough cushions, I'm happy too. Bingo.

We also solved the meditation problem. If I am going to meditate on the rose-print couch, yours truly, a yoga genius, will meditate on his head.

Over and out,



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