Gonged!

Picture this. A church hall typical of its sort, in darkness save for a few candles and a flicker of street-lights. On the floor there are bodies  of all shapes and sizes, each wrapped in a blanket. They are mostly women and they have their eyes closed. 

In the centre of the room a woman stands. She speaks quietly and then begins. At first it's like a gentle rumbling but its intensity and rhythm pick up as the evening progresses. The alternating highs and lows of the three gongs lead us through our meditations, as we allow our thoughts to travel where they will. And then . . .

the woman next to me starts snoring. I open one eye and turn my head to peep at her. She is curled up and fast asleep. She doesn't stir as the gong gets louder or when another woman close by has a mild coughing fit.

At the end of the session my friend turns to me and, with a smile, says, "Did you fall asleep?"

"No! It was her!"

So my first gong bath. How was it for you? It was good. I did enjoy it. It wasn't totally relaxing but pleasantly so. When it began I thought, "This is going to be a long hour but when it finished I wanted it to go on some more."

It's amazing how much music can be made on gongs and how versatile they are. I suppose I'd gone along sort of expecting the Rank Man but it was as relaxing as it can be when you're lying on a blanket on a hard floor. I probably wouldn't go again; it wasn't that profound an experience, but I'm glad I went.