SKULL SESSION
Guided Meditation for Anxious Pirates
Breathe in, ye scurvy tars
Settle into your hammock, close the eye without the patch and listen to the sound of my voice.
Feel the gentle sway of the ocean swells. Take a deep breath in. Hold for a moment. And now breathe out.
Listen to the rhythmic breathing of your crewmates. Breathe in. Hold that tension. And now breathe out. Note, but don’t react to the skittering of rats around the molasses barrel.
Feel your shoulders relax and sink. Breathe in. And out. You are safe.
The 16-gun Portuguese frigate Vingança, which has been chasing you for three weeks, is not just off the starboard bow. You feel calm and at peace.
Allow your jaw to drop slightly. Wiggle your toes once or twice and feel your feet and legs relaxing. Notice any areas of tension in your body. Relax those areas now. Breathe and listen to the distant singing of the merfolk.
In this peaceful place meditate calmly and imagine that all these affirmations are true for you, right now in this moment.
I appreciate who I am. I value myself as a person. And as a pirate.
I enjoy my active, outdoor lifestyle.
I am a valued member of this pirate crew.
They like me and respect my prowess with cutlass, rope, and jug.
I smell fresh and minty. I am aging beautifully.
I will not be eaten by a kraken. Or a giant squid. Or a Sea Witch.
I will not be hung from the yardarm. Or the mizzen. By my neck. Or by my Jolly Jack.
I allow myself to experience and express emotions, both negative and positive.
I do not hate Foul Cap’n Francis. I will not mutiny tomorrow though many’s the day Cap’s wayward tongue should be silenced with tempered steel.
I do not hate the Royal Navy, the French Marine Nationale, or the Spanish Armada. Their sea-going journey is valid. So is mine.
I am okay with taking their gold. Their heaving chests of booty are the result of a corrupt, racist colonial system designed to squeeze every last doubloon from exploited, indigenous peoples. You know what, fuck those guys.
I have the clap. And scurvy. And my poop has tiny worms in it. I accept and celebrate myself in all my diverse realities.
I am perfectly alright just the way I am. That thing in Port Royal was mostly the rum talking and could have happened to anyone. You mess with the bull, you get the horns.
I am a fine dancer. Hornpipes, jigs, reels.
My striped T-shirt and gold hoop earring are correct for any occasion.
I am fun to be around.
I nurture the pirate child within me.
I am my own treasure.
Take a deep breath. Take another.
Congratulate yourself. You are a winner.
At the count of five, you will feel refreshed, clear-headed, and ready to take on the 16-gun Portuguese frigate Vingança, now 300 yards off your starboard bow and closing fast.
