Everything but the rock’n’roll
SEX, DRUGS AND MEDITATION
THE title of MaryLou Stephens’ latest book, Sex, Drugs and Meditation, is enough to draw the reader in.
Inside, Stephens’ frank, open and easy- to- read style keeps the reader turning the pages as the writer gives them a glimpse into her inner torment.
The former Tasmanian, who now lives on the Sunshine Coast with her husband, their dog and a hive of killer native bees, has crafted an honest book and it is this honesty that sees the reader nodding along as she describes the painful path she travelled to “find herself”.
A dash of humour and a good dose of self- deprecation stops Sex, Drugs and Meditation being a dark and laborious read as some tales of self- discovery can be.
From the neglect she was shown as the youngest in a big brood to her shoplifting days and addictions to food, alcohol and party drugs, Stephens says she was lucky to make it to her 40s.
But she did and found herself in her “dream job” as a radio presenter.
Everything should have been great, but working with a new boss who she describes as a “psychopath in a suit” turned that dream into a nightmare.
In a bid to avoid even more therapy and cope with an increasingly toxic work environment, Stephens signed up for a 10- day meditation retreat which required total silence, endless hours of sitting cross- legged and a food- as- fuel kind of diet.
The meditation centre sounds more like a military boot camp than a retreat in which to find inner peace but, ultimately, it was what Stephens needed.
Sex, Drugs and Mediation is described as a story for those who confuse being with being happy.
Stephens’ journalist background shines through in her clear, concise writing style.
There is no flowery language here, just plain, solid, strong words and a logical storyline.
A percentage of the writer’s royalties from the sale of the memoir will be donated to Dhamma Rasmi, the Vipassana Centre in Queensland.