The Three Bear Brothers: A Very Slightly Chaotic Family Saga.

Episode 2: The Meditation That Mostly Didn’t Happen

Benedict believed that meditation should be approached properly.

Not rushed. Not improvised. And certainly not attempted while still wearing outdoor boots.

That morning, he stood quietly and announced — without raising his voice — that it was time to prepare for meditation.

Nico nodded.

He did not fully understand what meditation was, but he understood one important thing: whatever Benedict was doing, it was probably important.

Meditation, according to Benedict, always began with removal of unnecessary things.

Boots were unnecessary.

Scarves were unnecessary.

Distractions — especially enthusiasm — were highly unnecessary.

He removed his boots carefully and placed them side by side.

Then he folded his scarf and laid it down with the same seriousness usually reserved for official documents or very fragile ideas.

How do you know Benedict is meditating?

Easy.

He takes off his boots and his scarf.

And he places them carefully.

This was not about comfort.

This was about intention.

Benedict closed his eyes.

His posture was calm.

His thoughts were arranged neatly, like his belongings.

Meditation had officially begun.

Nico watched closely.

He, too, decided to remove his shoes.

Nico removed his shoes with great determination.

Unfortunately, determination alone was not enough.

One shoe went in the wrong direction.

The other followed.

Balance was briefly considered and then completely abandoned.

Nico ended up on his side.

This, he decided, might also be meditation.

⸻

Benedict did not open his eyes.

True meditation, after all, involved ignoring chaos — especially when the chaos was smaller than you and wearing yellow.

Nico lay very still.

He listened.

He waited.

He thought about nothing in particular.

Which, ironically, was very close to the

The meditation ended without a clear conclusion.

Benedict felt satisfied.

Nico felt proud.

Neither of them could fully explain what had happened.

But something had.

Sometimes meditation looks like silence.

Sometimes it looks like effort.

And sometimes it looks like lying on the floor next to your shoes, feeling oddly peaceful.

Benedict would not admit it — but Nico had learned something after all.