I watch way too much TV. This revelation came to me during a guided meditation; they say that you are supposed to get breakthroughs when you meditate but I was hoping for something a little more profound. The meaning of life would be good, or at least why the hairs on my chin grow three times as fast as those on my head, no matter how much I pluck. Come on, Thích Nhâ't Hnh. Work with me.
Picture your safe place, said the audio narrator. A place of total tranquility. I sat, both feet on the floor, eyes closed and hands resting in my lap. He said that somewhere in my happy place there was a temple. Could I see it? Okay, can do. This is a healing space, he continued. Place objects on the altar that you associate with healing. The only things I could picture were a rock and a box of Band-Aids. Suddenly a golden figure emerges ... a figure bathed in healing light. Think of a person or thing that you find calming, wise, and healing. This person or thing is love itself, and it is there to heal you and comfort you.
As the light dissipated a bit and I could make out my Healing Being's visage, it became immediately apparent that it was Tim Gunn from Project Runway. Holy shit, Tim Gunn was my healing spirit guide. It made perfect sense because I adore him. He has a gentle firmness that resonates unconditional love. Every time he has to send people to the work room to gather their things after elimination, he sends them off feeling wanted and worthy. He's been an outspoken part of the "It Gets Better" campaign. Former cast members of Project Runway all say the same thing when asked what advice they have for new contestants: Always listen to Tim Gunn. He also has the "Tim Gunn Save," where he can rescue someone who has been disqualified and bring them back into the competition because he so believes in them.
Save me, Tim Gunn.
Probably somewhere in my subconscious he came to me because I remember once being at a 12-step meeting and a woman said that Tim Gunn was her "higher power." I'd heard of all kinds of higher powers, including Cthulhu and Quetzalcoatl, but the Gunn thing actually made sense to me. On the other hand, was I so steeped in television that true spiritual healers didn't come to mind? Where were Jesus Christ, Florence Nightingale, E.T., Deepak Chopra, or Dr. Oz (oh shit, another dude from television)? Have the barons of reality TV overtaken all of us? Is there some sadistic asshole who has Simon Cowell for a spirit guide? Is Abby Lee Miller from Dance Moms barking her way through someone's personal Bhagavad Gita? Honey Boo Boo does look a bit like Ganesha. It could just be a historical thing; perhaps in the 1800s, Victorian yogi-wannabes were picturing Dr. Watson or Jude the Obscure.
"Reality TV has made the Seven Deadly Sins — pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth — attributes to be admired," writes University of San Francisco professor Jim Taylor in Psychology Today. "Throw in selfishness, deceit, spite, and vengeance — all qualities seen routinely on reality TV — and you have the personification of the worst kind of person on Earth. Reality TV makes heroic decidedly unheroic values, characters, and behavior." Well now. Certainly it can also exalt the righteous, no? Honey Boo Boo's mom might be a simpleton, but she developed trusts for all of her children with their earnings. She also has refused to upgrade to a nicer house — gluttony, sure, but not greed or avarice. Taylor sounds like the typical reality TV basher who has actually never watched any of it.
Your healing guide sits next to you, said the narrator. He places his hand on your forehead and transmits his energy. I pictured Gunn in a perfectly tailored pinstriped suit, his tie a tasteful alternate stripe and contrasting handkerchief jutting out of his breast pocket. (This is what he offers me whenever I weep.) His shoes brown suede monk straps, his socks silk. He tilts his head at me lovingly, his bifocals mid-nose. Your healing guide leans over and whispers a healing message in your ear, said the narrator.
Need I really tell you what he said to me, gentle reader? "Make it work." Then he added, "And use the Aldo accessory wall very thoughtfully."
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