Demure and Mindful by jessjesston on DeviantArt (original) (raw)
I've always been devoted to wellness. Yoga, herbal teas, breathwork - these weren’t just habits; they were my way of grounding myself, especially after my husband died young. It's not just about feeling in control of my health: it's about finding peace in the present moment, whatever challenges come my way.
As a single mother, that's so important. My days are divided between working as a freelance designer and raising my teenage son, Jake. He was always one of my challenges.
But, no matter how hectic life gets, every morning at 6 a.m., I unroll my yoga mat, steep my green tea, step out into the sun and begin my day with sun salutations and mindfulness practices.
Jake's never been impressed by it. In fact, he's always actively sabotaged it.
"Another detox tea?" he snickered one evening, eyeing the herbs steeping in my favorite hand-thrown ceramic mug. "What is this one? Helps you channel the universe or something?"
"Actually, it’s chamomile and lavender. It helps with sleep," I responded, my voice even, the way it always was when I was in 'zen' mode and he tried to antagonise me. I'd grown used to Jake’s sarcasm over the years. It didn’t hurt anymore - mostly.
He rolled his eyes, grabbed his soda, and plopped onto the couch to play video games. This was their routine: me with my wellness rituals, Jake with his skepticism. He was a bright kid but critical of anything that reeked of self-help or spirituality. I really wished he'd just give it a try - but I accepted that young boys didn't quite see the appeal.
"You know, Jake, you might be surprised how much a little meditation could help your stress levels," I said once, after hearing him complain about a biology exam. He just grunted in reply.
Things started to shift one Saturday morning - I felt it as it happened.
I was in the living room, sitting cross-legged on my mat, listening to a guided meditation. My friend Melissa had recommended me a private app, with a series of meditations. They were about tapping into your female power, your sense of generosity, your divine giving energy. I think this one was the first in the series - Demure & Mindful.
Jake had woken up late, groggy and disoriented, and stumbled down the hallway to get breakfast. He never intended to stop by the living room, but something about the calm voice of the meditation guide made him pause at the edge of the room, just out of sight.
"Close your eyes. Feel the warmth of the earth beneath you. Release the tension in your body, one breath at a time. Imagine roots connecting you to the ground, a sense of belonging, a truth you know but have never been brave enough to touch, stability..."
Jake, standing there in his rumpled t-shirt, couldn’t help but roll his eyes, yet he didn’t walk away. He stayed, leaning against the doorway, munching cereal. It wasn’t the words exactly that held him, but the way the guide’s voice softened my usually busy energy. I wasn’t rushing, fixing, or asking - in fact, I never was. I was still, my face serene, eyes closed as if the world outside didn’t exist. Jake felt a pang of jealousy.
There was a strange magnetism in the room, something Jake couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Over the next few weeks, Jake found himself overhearing more snippets of these meditations. Each time, it was accidental - a phrase here, a visualisation there. One day, the guide spoke about releasing anger: "Breathe deeply. Exhale the heavy burdens of resentment. Take away the obligation to be tough. Let yourself be weak, and enjoy the strength that comes from the bravery to be vulnerable. Allow forgiveness to cleanse your heart, not for others, but for your own peace."
Jake scoffed but found himself standing in the hallway again, listening longer than before. I didn't want to spoil things, but part of me wondered if there was something catching him in this whole "letting go" idea.
Without really noticing, his sarcastic jabs became less frequent. He started asking about my teas, though he disguised it with mockery. "So, does this one cleanse your aura or help you speak to trees?"
I noticed a difference in his tone - less biting, more curious. I didn’t push, just smiled and poured him a cup of ginger turmeric tea. “Try it. It’ll soothe your muscles.”
One evening, he was sitting in his room, his head doubtless pounding from hours of gaming and studying. Without thinking, instead of his usual music, he put his meditations on. He logged into my meditation app and searched for that same guided meditation that first piqued his interest - Demure & Mindful.
I couldn’t believe what he was doing. I could hear the sound across the house. I didn't dare interrupt, but I listened in carefully, a rush of pride filling my chest.
“Breathe in slowly, deeply. Let your shoulders drop. With each exhale, release the need to control. Trust that you are exactly where you need to be. You are becoming who you need to be.”
I was sure he intended to mock it afterward, but the familiar rhythm of the guide’s voice, soft and unwavering... I knew it pulled him in. He focused on his breath. In, out.
When the meditation ended, Jake opened his eyes, blinking at the dim light of his room. It felt like something had shifted inside him, something quiet but real. I shuffled in to bring him my favourite tea for after a deep meditation - a restorative and gentle spearmint.
The next morning, I noticed the change.
"How’s the tea today?" I asked as he poured himself a cup without prompting.
"Not bad," Jake said, avoiding eye contact, but his tone was warmer, more present.
Over the following weeks, our routine softened, and became more joined-together. Jake didn't tease me anymore - and I didn't tease him back - but I felt such a strong connection between this new, sensitive boy I saw unfurling before me. I always told him mindfulness would help him.
He didn’t tell me about the guided meditations he now listened to in secret or the quiet moments when he’d close his eyes and breathe through a stressful day. He didn't need to tell me - I could see it in my app. I found it fascinating that these strange, female-identity based meditations had so hooked him. It was like he couldn't stop listening to them.
One evening, after a long day at school, Jake sat down next to me on the living room floor, where I was stretching in silence.
"I don’t get it," he mumbled.
I opened my eyes, confused. "Get what?"
"Why this stuff actually... helps."
I smiled, my eyes soft with understanding. "Maybe it’s not about getting it. Maybe it’s about letting it be."
For the first time, Jake didn’t roll his eyes. Instead, he closed them, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, right beside me. I saw tears falling down his cheeks. I felt his head rest gently on my shoulder.
I sighed. "Darling, do you have something to tell me?"
The next year was scary, for both of us - but we were well-equipped for the challenges. Josie has her meditations, still - I think she depends on them. And I have mine, and enough love to support her.
She's off to her first ballet class today. I think she's been looking forward to it since... well, since she was Jake. It's like the core of her personality now. Demure & Mindful.