It is said that the pregnant women of ancient India, China, Arabia and other countries were surrounded with beautiful things, gentle music, and fine clothing. They were taught to sing and paint, to think good thoughts, and had food blessed and brought to them by holy men.
Sadly, this practice has fallen by the way, whether one is trying to give birth to a baby—or a book. It might be a lovely thought to have one’s creative juices stirring in such an environment; but it’s not likely in this modern world of ours.
We’re more likely to find ourselves pummeled by songs with lyrics about bitches and hos, to be assaulted by graffiti under every overpass, and to accept that our food has not been blessed, but genetically altered.
And so we adapt. We find ways to block unpleasant or distracting noises and activities.
We find ways to ZONE OUT.
It’s not always possible, of course. We live as part of this world. But sometimes we need it, if only for the sake of sanity. And I suppose everyone has their own way of doing it.
I think mine has always been sleep. No, I don’t mean to crash for 10-15 hours straight before stumbling into work and your production of “Zombie Part Two”. I mean naps. Short, pleasant but powerful little escapes after which I invariably feel better. It has worked when I was stressed, obsessing, and pretty durn sick.
How do I know how well my zoning-out method works, intentionally or not?
Because a few years ago I actually fell asleep in the middle of a root canal. Yes. Seriously.