The other night I was at kirtan, chanting mantras to live harmonium and drums in the back of the bookstore, surrounded but pictures and statues of deities. It's a powerful meditative practice. I had a good seat right across from the big picture of Maharaji, everyone sounded great, and the mood was perfect. Just as I was really tuning in, a woman bustled in late. She sat down right next to me, a little too close. She fussed with her phone a while, and she dropped her coat on me. Her whole energy was distracting. I started getting judgmental. Super judgemental. About her spiritual fitness, even about her shirt. I didn't like her shirt.

It took me a moment, but I realized that my perfectly blissful state of mind was gone. I realized how brief it was, and how easy it was to disrupt. In my embarrassment, I remembered Ram Dass's story about the meditation spoilers.

Ram Dass collected several stories about Maharajji, a living master and guru living in north India, in a book called Miracle of Love. Maharajji is also featured in Be Here Now, which you might be more familiar with.

In one story, Ram Dass tells us that Maharajji would often spoil his meditation. He would send children to disrupt the practice, or create an errand that needed to be run. One annoyance or another.

In my case it was a person that just needed some extra time and sink into the meditation herself.

I was determined to chant through it. Chanting through it is something I do a lot, because there is a lot that irritates me. It's easy to spoiler my meditation. Since its so easy, its also easy for me to realize that it's not that woman's fault. It becomes clearer and clearer to me that my meditation is spoiled because it can be spoiled. I'm irritable. If I were totally calm and loving, that person wouldn't have bothered me. There would have been gratitude that we had one more friend who wanted to join us. Perhaps sympathy and compassion (I hope she didn't have trouble in traffic).

It's never the other. At least not at kirtan. I know there is grave injustice out there, but you won't see that at kirtan. Kirtan is as safe a space as you can get, by design. It's joy and music and snacks and spiritual intention and nice people. It's a near perfect mirror for you to look at what spoils your meditation, and why.

In coaching language we might call this de-linking state from context. We might also call it 'owning our stuff'. We own it, and we accept it, and we move towards loving it. In doing so, we become less susceptible to spoilage.