sweet dreams

Yesterday I made a trip to the Stress Management Biofeedback Lab--which is as scary as it sounds. After talking about how my schedule must be stressing me out (thank you Captain Obvious), the lablady started giving me advice on sleeping. She starts talking about this technique "which is called (grand movement of the hands) Visualization." Yes, I know what visualization is. Yes, I have a decent imagination. Let's do this (the room was dim, warm, and there was "soothing" music in the background. I just wanted a nap). Instead, she gave me some additional advice of things to do just before hitting the sack that would not cause my mental or physical exertion. You know: reading a (fun) book, reading the scriptures, writing in my journal, writing a friend or "a loved one who is far away," writing poetry, medit--wait a minute. Did she say writing poetry? As an activity that demands no mental exertion? And reading? Good night.

I managed no greater reaction that nodding. . . the entire time. And then was hooked up to multiple (read: two) machines to measure tension and anxiety, or something like that, while she played a tape to lead me through a relaxation/visualization technique. I was doing an excellent job of relaxing until the end. She showed me the numbers from the machines--there was a sudden spike of anxiety. I knew exactly when that happened. It was when the man on the tape unknowingly offered a rhymed couplet.

After all this, I decided to try it last night, at the detriment of my homework. I wrapped things up 30 minutes before I wanted to go to sleep. I got ready for bed. (I admit that I hadn't completely stopped my brain--I keep revising my DC review in my head.) I dimly lit the front room and read "The Materialization of Cecil." And then I climbed into bed and visualized. And I slept. It was fantastic.