I tried meditation several years ago. After reading the biography of Steve Jobs, a super fan of meditation and Zen, I decided to wake up in a morning and try it myself. I sat on my single bed, one leg crossing the other with hands on my knees, gently closed my eyes and followed the instructions I found on the internet. "Find a comfortable position." "Be aware of your body." "Focus on your breath." "No matter what you are feeling, just let it happen." "Let the ground around you support you", etc.Just like Sylvianne in The Silence, I wanted to "find it in me." After about four minutes, I felt like thousands of ants were moving on my body. My mind was totally out of control. All I wanted to do was to stretch myself and get the hell out of that situation. In a word, the whole meditation thing, for me, was nothing but torture.I wasn't disappointed. It was just one ruined morning. But for Sylvianne, who made such a big trip all the way from Europe to America, with all the money, time, and effort, it is different. She couldn't just quit and get the hell out of that jungle. She came with the bitterness of solidarity, just like we all do every day, and wouldn't leave without solving it.So, she stayed, kept participating in all the activities in that small land of silence, laughed and dreamt during sessions, leaving other people's experiences ruined. Her body was restricted. Her mouth was shut. But her mind was wandering in the world of imagination. Ironically, the silence around her made her more restless. Then a man came. She fell in love with him almost right away, a typically wild American man with broad shoulders, long hair and soft eyes. After the event, she visited him in the cabin he had built by himself. They got married, had a baby and lived happily thereafter.It's a fairy tale in terms of content and form. It's a pop song that makes people addicted. It's a poem that would be collected into a bestseller instead of a classic one. I love it, personally. And I would be more than happy if I went to such an event to "find it in me', to solve my emptiness and solidarity, but end up living with an exotic girl in a cabin.But, at the end of the day, problems just weren't solved. Love is brilliant, but is it the answer? Is it the power to solve the bitterness? Is it the thing that Sylvianne flew half of the world to try to find? I doubt that. It brings happiness and strength but never solves anything.People were finally allowed to talk. The guru finally found that the price tag was there on his coat. The event is finally over. It's as if anything was solved, but nothing was solved. Maybe that's the meaning of any other experience, or maybe they should go to India or Japan for real meditation and Zen, where there are fewer McDonalds and more true gurus.。

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