Sanderstead Surrender
"Meditation teacher Nneka runs retreats from her Sanderstead sanctuary. When burnout case Marcus attends his first session, she shows him that true peace requires complete presence—in every way."
Marcus had tried everything—therapy, pills, productivity apps. Nothing touched the emptiness. Someone whispered about Nneka's retreats.
Her Sanderstead space was a converted house, all white walls and quiet. She was Nigerian-British, thick curves in flowing clothes, with a stillness that seemed impossible.
"You're running from yourself," she said after their first meditation. "No wonder you're exhausted."
"How do I stop running?"
"Stay. After the others leave. Let me show you stillness."
The retreat house at night was profound quiet. Nneka led him to a private room—cushions, candles, the smell of sandalwood.
"Meditation is about presence. Being fully here, fully now." She moved close. "Most people have never been fully present in their lives. Have you?"
"I don't think so."
"Then let's start."
She undressed slowly, meditation made manifest. Her thick body was calm, unhurried, completely present.
"Look at me. Just look. Without wanting to be elsewhere, without planning what comes next. Just be here."
He looked. Really looked. Saw her beauty, her peace, her complete acceptance of the moment.
"Now join me."
They made love as meditation—slow, conscious, every sensation noticed and honored. Her thick body was a temple he was finally present enough to enter.
"Yes... feel everything... stay here with me..."
She came with a sound like peace itself, and he followed, finally present, finally still, finally home.
"This is what meditation is for," she said afterward. "Not escaping the body. Fully inhabiting it."
"Can we do this again?"
"As often as you need. Presence is a practice." She held him close. "And you have so much to learn."
His Sanderstead surrender had finally stopped his running. And Marcus had found stillness worth staying for.