A MEDITATION ON TOWIE

The Only Way Is Essex (TOWIE) may be a lot of things; however a tool for enriching the mind is probably not immediately synonymous with the show. Or is it? How often does one get to chill out? To truly appreciate the moment and let all materialistic inclinations melt away? Toilet breaks don't count btw. We live in a world inundated with information, making it nigh on impossible to take a respite from all the hubbub of life. To rectify this, might I posit that you  'turn on, tune in and drop off' to... TOWIE. Yes, really.

(So mad that I didn't think up that pun...)

I honestly believe that an episode of TOWIE is just as enlightening and spiritually enriching as a meditation session. On watching the 'reality' show enfold, I feel completely zen. In a word, content. It may sound like I've spent too long in amongst a cloud of hairspray but please, read on. 

I'll begin with the theme tune. The mantra 'the only way is up' instills positive energy from the outset. Whilst the jazzy tune warrants an uncontrollable - though subtle - shoulder bob, which encourages the relaxation of muscles, thus promoting the kind of good posture conducive to reaching that place of inner harmony. Amen. 

As the programme begins you may experience slight sensitivity as your senses adjust to the glaring shades of orange and blinding gnashers staring back at you from the screen. Use this as an exercise to strengthen your mind but as with an eclipse, refrain from looking directly at the florescence. Your optometrist will thank me for this advice. 

Now leave your mind free to wander. Let their droll words wash over you, they will inevitably numb the mind to that of a relative state of comatose. However, fear not the very real possibility of drifting off. Their exclamations of shuu'up will keep you tied to the present, which is what meditation is all about, after all. Relish the distance you have from the onscreen drama, but remain unaffected by it. Rather let it ground you in real reality. Appreciate the luxury that is breathing non-fake tan smelling air. Be thankful that you don't smell like a biscuit and that your hair is not a fire hazard. 

Now let the rolling end credits wipe your mind as you're welcomed back into the room. And take solace in knowing that, whilst your life may not constitute a reality TV show, no one ever said that that was a bad thing. 

P.S What the heck has Charlie done to his hair?!? (The meditation is over so I'm allowed to make superficial comments btw)

(Images via: guykremer.co.uk & fuckyeahtheonlywayisessex.tumblr.com)