Stress-Reducing Meditation

Stress will wake you up at night, and keep you awake. Whether you want to get to sleep or get back to sleep, you have to turn off monkey-mind. Monkey mind is that immediate worry state, list-making need, or repetition of nags that starts when you wake up and gets louder until you can’t possibly get back to sleep.

What you need to get back to sleep is a combination of relaxing technique and meditation that blocks monkey mind. Here is one that works well. It might take a few tries to get it right, but it’s worth it. You’ll be asleep in no time.

Relaxation technique:
1. Lie down in a comfortable position, eyes closed.
2. Wait for monkey mind to start–all those negative thoughts and self-talk that start up at night with a vengeance.
3. Say “hush” and draw out the ‘sh’ sound, like you would soothe a baby.
4. Keep repeating “hush”, but imagine yourself walking down a hallway.
5. The hallway turns into a path–any kind of landscape you like
6. Note the detail in the landscape–smells, flowers.
7. Take your time about noticing details.
8. As you walk through this landscape, become aware of any tension in your head or neck. Imagine that it is draining away through your fingertips. Flick the color out onto the flowers. They will turn that color. [You don’t have to actually flick your fingers, just in your imagination.]
9. Relax your head and neck, and continue to your shoulders. Again, let the tension drain out through your fingertips, flicking it off.
10. Breathe in deeply, through your nose, to the count of three, hold it for the count of three, and breathe out through your mouth.
11. Release all your tension in your ribcage and solar plexus through your arms.
Notice if the color is the same as the other tension. Flick it off.
12. You are strolling now, with no effort.
13. The tension in your thighs and rear drains out through your footprints. What color is it?
14. The tension in your legs and ankles drains out, too. You are leaving behind all tension as you walk away.
15. The tension in your feet is draining out, too. You are perfectly relaxed.
16. Breathe again. On the in breath say, “I am” and on the out say “letting go,” [just in your imagination]

When I do this with people, they are generally asleep by the time I get to item 10.
It’s important to keep yourself in the vision and not let monkey mind start up a to-do list.
Let me know how it works for you!

—Quinn McDonald is a certified creativity coach and writer who knows that insomnia is what the mind creates to punish you. See her work at QuinnCreative.com   Image: Quinn McDonald, pencil on index card. (c) 2008 All rights reserved.

Codes, Words, and Meaning

When I was six, I began to collect words. Other kids collected Barbie dolls and postcards. I liked words.

The first one was Heiss—hot in German. I liked the sizzling sound at the end. I liked that it was written with the German Ess-Zet, or S/Z, a funny letter that looked like a Greek beta—an upper case B with a long stem. There were a whole string of words that seemed to come in colors—Schadenfreude, the German word for taking pleasure in the misfortune of others, seemed to come dressed in black robes. Misanthrope was an orange hunchback. Filigree had wings.

Words Turn into Codes
In elementary school, my friends and I would design elaborate code alphabets. Not just letter-exchanges, where the letter ‘a ‘would stand for the letter ‘m,’ we invented whole new designs of squares, squiggles and dots. We spent hours designing secret codes just for love notes, angry messages, and news. We designed for those purposes, but quickly grew tired of writing with them. Invention was the fun; writing the tedium. The curse of the inventor: practical applications.

By high school, collecting words wasn’t enough. It grew to include letterforms. Chinese characters, Cyrillic letters, Japanese kanjis all held supreme joy in their discovery.

Codes Develop into Languages
It was inevitable that the collection grew to include made up words. That continued into adulthood. When my son was small, he put a paper towel into his waistband when we sat down to eat. That was a ‘lapkin.’ It made more sense than napkin. The square of cloth you used to take a pan off the stove was a ‘hotholder.’ The sticks you used to propel a boat with were “rows.

Words Come First, then Design
The love of letterforms and words has grown for more than 50 years. My first collages included words as part of the design. Now the words give the design direction and meaning. Words are an important part of my definition of collage as an art medium.

I have long ago conceded that each person who views my collages sees them differently. I feel deeply satisfied when someone says, “These are so wonderful! They speak to me!” Perhaps they do, but in my world, they write to me. And the vocabulary of meaning is in code.

— Quinn McDonald is a certified creativity coach and writer. See her work at quinncreative.com

(c) QuinnCreative. 2008 All rights reserved. Stones carved by Maggie Roe, photograph by Quinn McDonald.

Roadside Shrines

The road was straight and level. No dips, not high enough to freeze. But there it was. About 50 feet off to the East side of the road–a white cross with plastic flowers wired to it. It wasn’t the first I had seen, in fact, Arizona seems to have more of them than any other state I’ve lived in.

Certainly, it could be because putting a cross on the side of the road to remember a loved one who has died there is a custom more popular in this Southwest than in New England or the deep South.

What mystifies me is how these accidents happened. The ones I’ve seen are on straight stretches of well-paved highway. There are three on the section of McKelliips Road that cuts across the Rio Salado to join the 101 going North to Scottsdale, about a mile from the Casino.

Maybe there was liquor involved. Maybe carelessness. We don’t know and don’t get to judge. All we know is that someone died. The shrines vary greatly. Some simply have faded plastic flowers wired to them. Others have mementos piled high–Disney figurines stand watch next to Virgin Marys and teddy bears. Many have some sort of liquor bottle–an easy-to-leave reminder of what the deceased liked.

Roadside shrines are outlawed in some states–considered a danger, a nuisance, a distraction. I’ve seen the markers encouraged by the state–blue squares that look like parking signs, with small writing. You drive past, not looking, not thinking. Those signs that are easy to ignore don’t make us uncomfortable. The roadside crosses do. They stand in mute reminder that we can die at any time, at any place, even in a straight stretch of road on a sunny day.

I like the mystery of it, the unanswered questions, the symbols of love. It creates a small well of wonder, into which we dip our cup of curiosity and come away tasting only uncertainty. We need those shrines to remind us of the frailty of life. I bet those crosses make more people drive carefully for a few minutes than a discreet road marker. The road marker says. . .something. The cross says, “I died unexpectedly, you can too.” It’s a powerful message.

–Images: (c) photographs by Quinn McDonald.

–Quinn McDonald is a certified creativity coach, writer and artist who is interested in life’s transitions. See her work at QuinnCreative.com