The GUIDE has a calm, soothing voice (most of the time). Leaning towards a feminine voice.
Begin with soothing, atmospheric ambient music. When GUIDE begins, the music can fall into the background a bit.
GUIDE
Imagine a garden.
Or at least, a garden center.
Green stuff. Living stuff.
Dirt.
Listen to your breath.
In. Out.
In.
Deep inhale.
Out.
Deep exhale.
Now, listen to the sound of your eyes blinking.
Slam.
Bang.
Slam!
Bang!
Maybe we should shut them.
Yes. Shut your eyes.
Good.
Now breathe.
In.
Deep inhale.
Out.
Deep exhale.
Innnnnnnn.
Long, deep inhale.
Out.
Long, deep exhale.
Innnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
Long deep inhale, a beat, then an exhale with irritation.
Don’t you ever get tired of breathing? Isn’t it kind of exhausting to breathe in and out all the time? Even when we’re sleeping, we don’t get a break from breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
Intake. Outtake. Intake. Outtake.
We might as well be a manifold for a 2014 Chevy Cruze.
Deep in.
Inhales.
What a chore.
Deep out.
Exhales.
Chhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh.
It’s like eating. Oh god: I have to eat again. Which means, I’ll have to decide what to eat. Then cook it. Do I have any tubers, an onion? I’ll definitely need a pan. Did I remember to fill the dishwasher?
Ex. Aus. Ting.
Oh, but you say: What would happen if we stopped breathing?
Yes, we would die.
But have you ever died before?
Breathing, you’ve done. Dying?
Maybe dying is fantastic.
Anyway, concentrate on your breath. Because you must.
You can’t have something for nothing.
The GUIDE breathes along with her instructions.
Innnnnn.
Owwwt.
And life – it ain’t so bad.
Indeed. We have things like public transportation, conjunctivitis, racquetball.
I doubt they have those when you’re dead.
Death, if you think about it, is the ultimate meditation.
In.
Out.
Out for good.
With one last breath, at last, we are one with the universe.
We touch the eternal in death.
Death is the only permanence we can achieve.
Breathe in.
Deep inhale.
Breathe out.
Deep exhale.
It’s what we all spend the most time doing.
Being dead.
Breath in deeply.
Deep inhale.
Now exhale.
Deep exhale.
Whoooooooooooooooooo
Carl Jung considered the possibility that the universe may have created the collective unconscious to simply get someone to move a pebble on a beach a few centimeters. What if you were the one who moved that pebble? What if that’s your claim to fame?
Innnnnnnnn.
Owwwwwwwt.
Anyways, why are you even listening to me?
Who am I, exactly? A guided meditation expert? What in the hell is that?
Why are you letting me into your brain?
I mean, I could do some real damage in here.
You can’t just let any schmo into your brain.
Seriously? You should really be more discriminating about who you let inside here.
This, is a sacred space, not some all-ages general admission open mic.
It’s your brain for god’s sakes!
Pause. We can hear The Guide gather themselves with a deep exhale.
Then, the Guide breathes in deeply. Another pause.
Listen. I don’t mean to get down on you. But you let me inside your actual brain. I, have a brain, too.
And frankly, you don’t know what’s going on inside my brain.
You don’t know where this brain has been, do you?
And who knows what brains have been inside mine?
It’s like some kind of disgusting matryoshka situation.
GUIDE breathes out, a long, motorboat style exhale.
Well, I guess it’s too late. I’m in here, now.
Might as well make the best of it.
I’ll try my best not to knock over anything.
GUIDE whistles, as if taking in the scenery.
I will say, it’s kind of a mess in here.
Maybe it’s good that you’ve let me in.
I can do some straightening up, like some kind of psychic maid.
What was I saying?
Oh yes, breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
You get the picture.
In…
The garden center is closing in five minutes.
Out…
Please bring your final purchases to the cashier.
In…
Your dishwasher is full.
Out…
Did you remember to turn it on?
In…
Are you hungry?
Out…
Already?
In…
Will you have the wherewithal to prepare another meal?
Out…
Or will you succumb to the overpriced convenience of a delivery service? In…
Will you let that random delivery person inside your home?
Out…
Or will you guard your home with more diligence than your own mind?
Sorry. I’m still kind of shocked that you really just let me in here.
In.
Out.
Out.
Out.
This last one echoes as if traveling the depths of an inconceivably deep cave:
Owwwwwwwwtttttt!
END OF PLAY.
©2024 Ruben Carbajal
Performance rights available through the author: reachruben@gmail.com
www.rubencarbajal.com
Ruben Carbajal writes for stage, screens, and beyond. His most-produced play, The Gifted Program is published by DPS and has appeared on stages for over two decades. Last year, one of his very first one-acts, HOLD was revived at Hamilton College, and his audio drama Something in the Air was part of the Sundog Originals Project. This year, he was a Waterworks Festival finalist with A Play with a Door, and his shorts Some Assembly Required, A Place to Rest Your Head, and The Law of the Instrument were published by Stage Partners. He’ll also appear in the forthcoming Best Men’s Stage Monologues of 2024. He’s proud to make his second appearance in Coalitionworks.
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