A meditation on meditation

It's Friday night at 7:30, and I am in a room with about a dozen other people hoping to relax.

I am trying to recover from the trauma of turning 40 earlier this week. It works -- as soon as I notice that I appear to be the youngest person in the room, I feel better.

Why do we need to pay for the privilege of relaxing? Why do we need classes to teach us what should come naturally? Why do we need massages and aromatherapy and CDs that play sounds we wouldn't really hear in a rainforest?

Why can't we just relax?

The meditation teacher is a beautiful older woman with the kind of long gray hair and clear eyes I hope to have when I'm her age, whatever ageless age she is. She wears comfortable cotton clothes, and her serenity fills the room.

She offers lavender mist to spray on my forehead. It sells for $8 a bottle. The cost of relaxing: how much am I willing to pay?

Soon we are all on our mats, gently drifting into an altered state.

And then I hear it.

A clock is ticking. Loudly. This is no internal clock trying to find its relaxation rhythm. This is a wall clock, several feet from me, that is louder than anything I've ever heard before.

Perhaps I'm in a heightened state of awareness and my senses are more acute. Perhaps it will drive me insane (I think of Charlotte in "Sex and the City" who could not "find her center" during an infertility acupuncture session because the noises of New York overwhelmed her).

I try to breathe along with the clock, to use the clock.

Why is relaxation such hard work?

I focus on the other sounds -- is that construction going on across the street? I listen to the instructor, who has a calm, peaceful voice. She's telling me where to put my hands. Wait. She wants me to put them where? Can she say that at a family spa?

Suddenly, the music stops. I cannot relax without the music. I need those subtle cicadas and waterfalls and wandering minstrels.

I remind myself to pay attention to my thoughts, to any mind tricks I may be playing on myself. But I've got nothing. Is that a good sign? Maybe the absence of thought is a sign of relaxation. Or is it a sign of idiocy?

I feel cold, which must mean I'm doing this right. Before class they handed out robes (which I declined), warning us that a fully relaxed body is chilled, like white wine. I think they turned on the air conditioner.

I get back to breathing and realize I've lost my rhythm. I feel as I did in Lamaze class when they tried to convince me that some well-timed "hoo-hoo-hoo"s and "he-he-he"s would get me through childbirth without medication. Ha!

I wonder: How have I survived this long without learning how to breathe?

Just when I think I might be drifting into a state of harmony with the earth, the earth erupts. It's snoring.

No, wait, that's the woman next to me. And then a man across the room. That too is a sign of relaxation, I'm told. And all this time I thought my husband had sinus problems.

Tomorrow, I'll try yoga.

How do you relax?

A version of this LifeFiles column originally appeared on about 70 TV station websites managed by Internet Broadcasting Systems.

Comments

[kelly]

Happy Birthday!!

I used to teach a meditation class, and the whole time I'd be thinking "I'm a fraud!"

But I do return to meditation when I can remember to, that and Qi Gong exercise and yoga. The more often I do it (at home-alone-at my own pace-for free) the more energy I have for this insanely busy life. I haven't in weeks, and I'm feeling it. Drained.

[Donna]

Happy belated birthday! (and now that you are 40, it's not so bad, is it?)

[Terry]

40, you say? Pshaw! :-D

[Eyes for Lies]

I relax by going out my back door. I live on a lake. If that doesn't work, I take a boat ride. It's a guarantee to work. As soon as we take-off and the wind blows my hair back, all the stress disappears. Honestly.

They say that those who live in the country are a LOT LESS stressed then those who live in the city. They say nature and trees has a lot to do with it -- and I completely concur.

Perhaps you should move to the country ;)

Oh, and when I have a tub -- a bath is a major relaxer for me. Just right now, we are remodeling so I am without one -- boo -hoo!!!

[cassie-b]

When I try to relax, I fall asleep. Not too bad.

[Melany]

That was very well written. how to I relax... blogging :) Reading blogs and reading. Playing with my kids. Lying on the grass watching the clouds. I think relaxation comes in many different ways...even strenuous exercise

[karen]

relax?? a hot tub?? wish i had one~~a long bath? can't seem to work in the time between stresses and crises....lol. i used to read or do crossword puzzles to relax, but that was a lifetime ago, before kids, and work, bills and single parenting... you've given me something to think about. now if i can just find the time for a thought!

[clickmom]

I would definitely be a snorer. Not because I am so good at relaxing, but because I am so damned tired that if I sit still for any length of time I fall asleep.

[RobinP]

My friend owns a store that sells crystals,candles,incense,tarot cards,etc. She and her husband have tried over the past 14 years to get me to meditate. No can do! It just stresses me out!

When I need to relax,Rich tickles my feet.Usually I wil lie on the couch or in my bed and Rich tickles me to sleep. It is the most relaxing thing for me.

[Paula]

I either take a long hot bubble bath or jump in the hot tub, light some candles and bring along a favorite beverage. Works every time.

[Sarah]

Blogging or drinking heavily.