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I hate meditation too. It’s for the birds. The angry birds. Wait. I AM an angry bird and…it’s not for me.

Recently a blog peep suggested drooling as an alternative to meditiation and it SOUNDS GOOD TO ME.

This position just doesn't look comfortable.

Unless you count the extended sessions on my couch sitting Indian style and obsessing on one specific topic, I am just not a meditator. I mean, I’m not clearing my mind per say, but I am clearing it of all thoughts but ONE…. like one day it might be my bills, other (lots of) days I ruminate on my incredibly sucky taste in men and the loneliness that engorges my so-called life. By the way, “Indian style” is politically incorrect now. My son’s preschool refers to it as “criss cross” or to make it more fun, it’s “criss cross apple sauce.”

My ferociously missed ex-therapist used to revisit the idea of meditation every few months. Me being the high strung lunatic that I am much of the time, he rationalized that deep breathing and clearing my mind and all that shit would help me. I tried the first time he suggested it. After that my response to his suggestion to try again was, “ehhh” accompanied by a brisk shoo-it-away-like-a-fruit-fly hand motion.

Meditation does not work for me because it is TOO MUCH WORK. I simply CANNOT  clear my mind (without the use of drugs, as wag the dad mentioned, or reality tv which. sort of is the new designer drug, no?) The mental tension that I inflict on my brain when I try and FAIL to think of NOTHING is not only tiring in the keep me awake kinda way, but it annoys the shit out of me AND makes me feel like a useless loser when I fail. I like challenges but not ones that I can NEVER  EVER EVER EVEN IMPROVE UPON. I’ve tried the fucking breathing and yes: deep breathing is nice. It fills my lungs but does not erase my thoughts.

I finally thought of something that seemed to relax me and I described it to my therapist and he informed me that it is already in practice and is called GUIDED IMAGERY: because I can’t shut my thoughts off but if I replace them with other thoughts, I’m good. Guided imagery is kind of like reading but not having to read. It’s like escaping. The problem is finding a good voice and story. I am picky. It has to be a woman voice for some odd reason, and I need to be at the beach or something. I think a man’s voice would be cool if they didn’t all sound like 80 year old grandpas.

There are a variety of guided imagery styles and of course you can sample a trillion of them on youtube. In fact, when I remember to do the damn thing, I can never find a good one so I spend so much time finding one on youtube that I end up needing stress relief just from the agony of the search. Moving along, let me bullet myself:

  • I do not like the guided imagery that tells you to tighten and relax your muscles. I know how to do that. Yoga made me do it. I don’t need instructions.
  • I cannot tolerate the “imagine you are floating on a cloud” bullshit. My guided imagery needs to be real. I don’t read science fiction so I don’t want to imagine it either.
  • Inspirational and/or contemplative shit pisses me off too. I’m not trying to think harder about the inner workings of my life and times. And if I want to be inspired I will watch the Real Housewives of Orange County and get inspired to secure a good paying job so I can afford the botox and the puffed out lips.
  • MY guided imagery needs to be realistic escapism. That voice better be leading me on a relaxing walk along the beach with the sound of the ocean waves crashing and some salty sea air wafting up my nose while the sun beats down on my bronzed skin, soaking me in a bath of moist warmth. Simmer down guys, I know that sounded a mite sexual 😉

My therapist suggested that I implement my writing skills and draft up my own image, record them and listen to myself. But who likes the way they sound on a recording? Noone. And I don’t want to be writing my own escape because I will be critiquing it instead of falling into a hazy dreamworld where bills don’t exist, where men don’t talk because if they don’t talk they can’t lie, and where everyone is gorgeous and happy.

I could NOT find a good youtube sample for my readers and I didn’t feel like doing an hour long search so sorry about it. If you find one that suits my fancy, share away. Or better yet, fellow bloggers, perhaps each of you should write me up your own narrative and record it for me so I have a compilation of guided imagery to either calgon me away or medicate me with laughter. 🙂

p.s. Said therapist told me that STUDIES HAVE SHOWN that watching t.v. uses less areas in the brain than sleeping. So it’s official. Watching t.v. is actually mind numbingly therapeutic. Who doesn’t want to meditate on Roseanne? talk about GUIDED IMAGERY. I can trace each of my major bouts of double depression by the t.v. I drowned myself with. I watched a month long marathon of America’s Next Top Model when my ex husband picked up the needle and his first cousin’s wife. When I dumped my last loser boyfriend a year or so ago I watched 8 seasons of Buffy the vampire slayer on youtube, each in 4 sections and with backward images, and in about two weeks. I can’t watch the following sitcoms anymore because now that I associate them with my “moments” they are no longer funny: Roseanne, That 70’s Show, and …….wow I know there’s another one but I seemed to have blocked it completely out.


About MommyHoodLife

Life in the fast lane

2 responses »

  1. TV only has a bad rep because no one has harnessed the vast and untapped visual relaxation therapy potential it contains. As soon as someone coins a psycho buzz word, they’ll stop with the yadda yadda and just park a monitor in front of the couch. I’d bet the success rates would be about the same.

    • Interesting. You are so right. “therapeutic televisionry” or some shit. And The monitor could be attached to a super comfy exercise bike: one that’s shaped like one of those rocking video game chairs with peddles on it so they can avoid the whole “couch potato” thing. Everybody in tv therapy will walk around with really solid leg muscles. Yeah. Let’s fucking patent this therapy machine and make some dough….


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