All that is to say that I could live at Duke Integrative Medicine and be very happy. I was first introduced to their services when my friend Jen bought me a "half-day experience" there after I had the miscarriage in October. I went for yoga, lunch, acupuncture (in which the acupuncturist unwittingly doubled as my therapist for the next hour) and some peaceful alone time (which they specifically cater to by offering several "reflecting" rooms, usually populated by trickling streams and rock formations).
Tonight, I attended the free workshop, which promised to offer tips for mindfulness to help reduce stress and anxiety. The center offers a more comprehensive, eight-week course on Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR), and the workshop was a bit of a sales pitch to take the (very expensive) course. However, I did find the workshop to be very interesting, and it offered some valuable insights.
The premise behind the method is that you learn to focus on the present moment by focusing on your breathing or sounds around you, and you learn to let go of the nagging thoughts that can create anxiety. That includes the constant negative self-talk -- the inner critic. You learn to focus on the present instead of constantly rehashing events from the past or worrying about what might happen in the future. And once you're able to live more fully in the present, and learn to accept things as they are without judgment and criticism, you'll be better able to accept yourself and become less critical of those around you. And you'll be better able to control your reactions to situations.
This speaks to me. My inner critic is always at 11. And my mind is always racing. I am always thinking about not only what I have to do now, in the next few minutes, but what I have to do after that and then what I have to do after that and then what I have to do after that. And all the while, I'm still thinking about what I'm going to get accomplished over the weekend, by the end of the week, by the end of the month, by the end of the year, by the time I'm 35, by the time I'm 50, by the time I'm 80 and so on and so on. I am always questioning, always evaluating the ends and means of my days. Is this time well spent? Even if this is something I'd rather not be doing now, is it something that will add value to my life later? It's exhausting. But establishing that control is the only way I know to actually feel better in some ways about my life. It's an endless loop.
I'm also hesitant when it comes to meditation and other "mind control." I want something that will help NOW. Closing my eyes and listening to my breath doesn't calm me down so much as it puts me to sleep. It's like my body's way of rebelling. If I try to drag my mind kicking and screaming into the happy zone, it's like, "Nah. Peace."
Just as I was starting to warm up to the speaker and was starting to think, "Well, maybe I do feel a bit lighter after those two minutes of stillness..." he started asking the audience questions about how they deal with stress and what affect it has on their bodies, and I heard a familiar shrill voice ring out from the crowd. Old and creaky and laced with saccharine and hypocrisy. It's a voice that I heard whine to me every day about everyone who misunderstood her and just made her life so miserable when I was working as a temp a little over a year ago. It was the voice that made me wonder, "Shit, what am I going to do if they offer me the job?? I CAN'T listen to this every day." Sherry (not her real name) came into the office (the one that only she and I shared -- extra cozy comfort time) and complained to me about our boss, about all the co-workers who were out to get her, about her landlady who was so unfair because she wanted to charge her for breaking the lease early, about her son who never called, and about anything and everything that reminded her about how aggrieved she was. And when she wasn't complaining, she was always trying to convince me about how smart and cultured she was, telling me stories about great jobs she had had, or obscure books she had read. I hated her. The only way I had to cope with her was to literally not look at her when she spoke (hoping that keeping my back to her and typing away would make her think I was too busy to talk -- it didn't) and to respond to the things she said with things like "hmmm" or "mm--mm--mmo" (a mumbled "I dunno") or the occasional "huh."
Sherry was the perfect example of what constant complaining does to a person -- and everyone around that person.
I heard her voice and whipped around in shock. I wanted to jump out of my chair, point at her, and scream "Imposter! She's a dirty, lying hypocrite! Don't listen to her! Don't empathize with her! And, what more, she has robbed me of my moment of mindfulness!"
Alas, my brief mindfulness training kept me from doing so, and I was able to keep my attention on the lecture -- being mindful not to ever shift my gaze to the right and inadvertently make eye contact, and being careful to get up as soon as the lecture was over and leave without looking back.
I was able to slip out without making contact -- and I managed to buy one of the presenter's books while doing so. Maybe there is something to this mindfulness after all....
1. I heard a very inspiring lecture over the weekend that made me feel like great things are possible.
2. I got to spend time with some very good friends over the weekend.
3. Cookies and burritos -- no matter what they do to the waist line, they are good for the soul.
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