A quest for serenity fails miserably

At my last checkup my doctor told me I had to find a way to relax so I could improve my health and wellbeing.

Yeah, sure, I'll get around to that right after I meet the three deadlines I have for this week's paper, gather the paperwork to file my taxes, and round up speakers for the communicators' convention I'm planning for this May.

Honestly, telling me I must relax is like telling a hungry shark he's got to take smaller bites as he's chewing your leg off. There's always a deadline that must be met, and always another story that comes along demanding my attention. The pressure never really eases up.

And, it's perhaps the best career for a stress junkie like myself.

But, I thought I'd at least attempt the doctor's advice since he's got that medical degree and I don't. And so, this past weekend, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the floor of my living room dressed in my comfiest lounge pants and sweatshirt and attempting to achieve nirvana in the 15 minutes I'd allotted for this little meditation exercise in my weekly planner. All of my usual distractions were turned off--the television, the radio, the cell phone, and my laptop computer. I'd even shut Shiloh the Wonder Dog in the bedroom with a chew toy so she wouldn't keep me from my goal.

The first few minutes were simply awful. Not only did I feel like a complete moron sitting by myself in an empty room, but I couldn't shut off my inner monologue enough to find this supposed inner harmony. It sounded a little like this:

Boy it sure is quiet. Never been this quiet. Yessirree, this is a lot of quiet.

You know how out in the country, at night, when you get home from a long drive and you turn off the car and just sit in your driveway listening to the wind in the trees... it's that kind of quiet.

Is that my stomach grumbling? I wonder what I should fix for supper tonight. There's some hamburger in the freezer I need to use up. Did I pick up tomato sauce at the grocery store last time?

Oh, speaking of groceries, I've got to make sure I get the ingredients for that dip I want to take to the next poker party. And I need to pick up some pretzels and a few bottles of soda....

I realized I wasn't quite reaching that meditative state of mind with my list-making, so I changed sitting positions and mentally shook myself back into focus.

C'mon. Remember, the plan. Tune into the silence and the still calm of the room. Listen to your heart beat. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. There you go....

What did I do with the poker chips and the cards after the last party? Maybe they're in the spare bedroom. If so, I'll never find them in that clutter.

Man, this floor needs vacuuming. And, I've got to take out the trash and finish that load of laundry before I leave on my next story run.

Did I call that source to confirm our interview? I need to make a note to call that guy about that thing. What question was that again? Hmm...

At the end of 15 minutes I realized my quest for inner harmony through meditation was an utter failure. There's just no shutting up my inner voice long enough to let the calm shine through.

Oh well, maybe I'll do better with my next relaxation experiment--subliminal CDs. A friend of mine swears her "Sounds of the Forest" CD is the best thing to get her to sleep at night. Of course, being the resourceful gal I am, I'm thinking of mixing up my own CD with a blend of auctioneer chants, diesel engines, a pen of bulls calling to each other, and the sound of rain falling on the tin roof of a machine shed.

And, if that doesn't work, I'm considering developing a new brand of stretching exercises called "Cowboy Yoga."

One things for certain, no matter how many different tactics I'll have to try, I'm going to relax if it kills me.

Jennifer M. Latzke can be reached by phone at 620-227-1807, or by e-mail at jlatzke@hpj.com.

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2/5/07

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Date: 1/30/07

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