I finally finished all my exams for getting registered with
the Securities and Exchanges commission. It was tough, it was a serious
learning curve, and I’m relieved to have it behind me. So today at work I
caught myself looking up study guides for the GMAT. Do I need an MBA for my
job? No. Do I need a graduate degree for my career? Nope. But a little
certificate displaying ‘Harvard School of Business’ would really tie the office
together. I’m daydreaming about more exams. What in the world is wrong with me?
I suppose it’s because I’ve never really slowed down. In
college I consistently took 21 credits, worked 2 jobs and held down an
internship. It was crazy, I don’t remember sleeping much, and I wrote my entire
English senior thesis the night before. Looking back, I’m not entirely certain
how I pulled it off- but it was what I needed to do at the time. After college,
I continued with my retail job. I was so relieved. 1 job. Holy moley.
The unfortunate side of retail- aside from some real nuts
that have no business trying to shop- is the schedule. It’s never consistent,
it’s always longer than you planned, and by the time you get home you’re too
exhausted to hit all the paperwork that you hauled home with you. After 7 years
of no Thanksgiving, stressful Christmas, a rare weekend, and too many days of
PTO unused- I jumped ship.
One would imagine finance to be stressful. I mean if a woman
can shout at you for 20 minutes about her bra, imagine what she could do with a
portfolio of stocks that just plummeted. Weirdly, it wasn’t. The world was
entirely foreign to me. My grandma could lock herself out of the house and I
could leave to go rescue her. I could go home on my lunch break and play with
the dog. My weekends had nothing scheduled. And at 4pm? I was done. Like really
really done. Nothing to take home, nothing to do. And I panicked.
I am not good with idle time. If I’m watching TV, I’m also
doing the laundry and reading. If I’m reading a book, I’m also checking my
e-mail. If I checking my e-mail I have seven tabs open at once and am darting
over to the piano to bang out a tune. It occurred to me- I really can’t sit
still.
I used to make the New Year’s resolutions where I create a
giant list of how I’m going to become the most perfect me- meet with personal trainer 3 times a week, make organic locally grown
dinners nightly, take the dog for a hike 6 days a week… In the past I
seemed to think I had the time of a trophy wife on my hands. So this time, I decided
to just try and add something new. Just one little thing. Meditation. Which in
and of itself is terrifying- my subconscious is screaming ‘A LIST! I NEED A
LIST!!’.
Motivated by images of my new calm, cool, collected and
ultimately Zen self- (of course wearing the cutest bohemian outfits), I decided
to create a meditation space upstairs in my house. I never use the rooms for
anything- so I put down a little rug, a nice soft light, some comfy pillows,
and created an area where I can just be. That is, after I tried to reconstruct
the bed frame up there, involving three trips to Home Depot attempting to find
the correct size bolt, after which I realized said bolts require nuts, and
cursing all the way back to home depot I also discovered I bought the wrong
size…
A day and many shouted epitaphs later, my room was a nice
place to begin. So I embarked on mission number two and went to find some
incense. I’m not sure why- no one told me I had to have incense, but I felt it
was appropriate, and scientifically excused it by the whole ‘memory has a sense
of smell’ thing. Like if I smell that smell I will automatically be calm, cool,
collected and fashionable thanks to my nose memory. Admittedly, I really like
incense, but somehow always end up feeling like a dirty hippy for buying it, or
like I’m on my way to an opium den in India. So once that awkwardness was over
with, and I declined the salesman’s offer of a ½ priced tapestry, (I thought
about it… but Grateful Dead isn’t really my style), I headed upstairs with my
new smell, “Serenity”, and my new iPhone app, Headspace.
I know I know. iPhones and meditation? You’re using
technology to do something a Buddist 1,000 years ago did? Well I am. Besides,
after I went into Verizon and complained about the exorbitant price I was
paying for data that I don’t even use- the man had the audacity to suggest that
I should try coupon apps to make it worth my while. Pfft. Coupon app. I hate
couponing. Headspace? An app with a calm sexy British male telling me to relax?
Now that I can get behind.
I light my incense stick, settle myself cross-legged on the
rug and push play.
Today, we are going to
begin by closing your eyes, and feeling the weight of your body making contact
with the floor.
Ok ok. Contact. Yup. Got it. Floor and ass. Floor and ass.
I want you to take
into account how your body is feeling today. Is it light like a feather? Are
there any areas of tension? Scan down the body and take into account these
areas.
Neck is a little sore. Hmmm. Must have slept on it funky.
Hips feel really tight. I should get back to yoga. My sinuses in fact feel
really stuffed. Left over cold? Is that a headache? Do I really already have a
headache? It’s 5:30am! Gah I feel like shit! What is wrong with me??!!
Notice any noises.
Observe them as a part of your environment, and allow them to pass.
Heater buzzing. Dryer thumping. Dog walking. Dog stopping.
Dog barking.
At this point Erik has become entirely too interested on
what in the world is happening upstairs and why smoke seems to be wafting down
the stairs. I hear him stop and give a questioning bark.
Now I just want you to
be aware of the sounds in the environment, but try not to concentrate too hard
on them.
Woof? I can
ignore this. Woof woof? It’s fine.
He’ll be bored with it and go away. WOOF
WOOOF?! Omg. The echo in here is terrible. I need more tapestries. WOOF WOOOOF WOOOOOF!!!
“DAMMIT ERIK I’M TRYING TO F’N MEDITATE YOU *$^%ING FURRY
PSYCHO!!!”
I’ve watched Ceaser’s Way. I realize it’s considered
fruitless to explain to your dog why you’re mad at it. But if he’s smart enough
to turn on the radio and rearrange the furniture while I’m at work, he’s smart
enough to understand my tirades. I violently slam the pause button on the
iPhone and march downstairs to confront my distraction.
“Ok ok already! You can come upstairs!” Erik happily trots
up the stairs ahead of me and begins exploring the environment. Which is what I
was attempting to do before fur ball so rudely interrupted.
Oooo-saaaaah. Back into seated position. I press play. Acknowledging
the sounds… right. Dryer running. Heater buzzing. Erik’s soft paws padding
through the rooms… that’s ok, I can deal with that. I fact it’s rather
soothing.
Come to an awareness
of the room around you, any sounds, any smells, any feelings.
I feel there’s a dog nose approximately 3 inches from my
face. It’s ok. I can Zen this. Ignore the sniffing.
Take a couple a real
nice deep breathes. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Focus on where
in your body you feel the breath.
I open my mouth, drawing the air into my lungs. A large,
sloppy, and very wet tongue drifts clear from my chin up to my hairline.
“EEEEEEERRRRRRIIIIIIKKKK!”
Ppft. Spit. Cough. I open my eyes
to see Erik sitting inches away from me, head cocked to one side, ears flopped
over, tongue lagging out, with the biggest grin on his face after seeing his
owner has clearly been revived by his kiss of life.
This might take some
getting used to…
