I went to a sound bath so you don't have to
I was on one of those sprees where you click a link that leads to another link that leads to another link and you find yourself falling down an internet black hole that often ends in instagram photos of men wearing cat slippers or reading impassioned blog posts about Lena Dunham's boobs. This time, though, I was reading about sound baths. It sounded like an interesting concept, and I took to Google to see if we had them in New York.
Whether you live in New York or not, you know as well as I do that if you read about a weird thing, it exists here. I knew I had to try it.
A sound bath is, according to the sound healer I saw, an opportunity for "deep listening." Both of sounds that are there, and of sounds that aren't (I don't understand that last part either).
I walked into the entryway, removed my coat and shoes, and took a seat in the sound bath room. It had carpeted floors with pillows strewn around and a whole set of differently sized bowls in the middle. I made a comment to the girl on the pillow next to me about how we were wearing essentially the same outfit - fuschia pants with black and gray striped shirts. Besties! We kept talking, and her friend and his dad - or, I suppose, it could have just been a much older male friend - joined in when I mentioned my Jewish place of employment. Because if there's one thing Jews like to talk about, it's Jew stuff.
Before we began, our leader passed around a bottle of lavender essential oil, which is supposedly good for relaxation. She said to massage it into the soles of our feet, and also to just smell it from our hands.
I massaged that shit into my feet and it felt amazing because, hello, fragrant foot massage! And then I put my hands up to my face and I got a big ol' whiff of lavender and feet stank because I had been walking around in my smelly TOMS all day. So that was pleasant.
Finally it was time to get started. We were told that this would be a special sound bath because they had a reiki...person (?) there to work with us. To be honest, I have no idea what reiki is, even now, after having it done to me.
We all stretched out on the floor, and our sound bath specialist started making all sorts of crazy noises using the bowls, which were made of rose quartz. Going into this experience I had this idea like, "So she's going to clang the bowls and there's going to be a BING BONG kind of deal and what is even the point of this?" But let me tell you, friends. The sounds that those bowls created were the weirdest things I have ever heard in my life.
For the first ten minutes I had to keep my eyes open because the bowls' sound vibrations felt like they were coming from INSIDE MY BRAIN and it was incredibly disorienting. I thought that something had gone horribly wrong and that the first 5 seconds of the sound bath had fucked up my ears so much that my brain was buzzing and I was going to hear alien hum noises for the rest of my life. SPOILER ALERT: this did not happen and I got used to it.
So the buzzing continued, along with the very melodic BING BONGs that I had predicted (high five, self). Then the reiki person started going around. She would put her hands very gently on your head for about a minute, and it was supposed to do something with your energy and the energy in the room.
Can anyone tell me what the deal is with energy in rooms and how I'm supposed to feel it? Serious question. I don't know what it is about energy that I don't get but I have no idea how to tap into that. I would like to learn though because maybe then I would care about feng shui, or whatever. Anyway. When the reiki lady put her hands on my head, I felt my muscles relax a lot. It is entirely possible (nay, likely) that I was doing this on purpose because what is the purpose of an old lady quietly resting her hands on you if not to feel something?
So the bing bongs and the crazy "the call is coming from inside the house" head vibrations continued for awhile, and then our sound bath leader got up to go around to everyone with tuning forks. She had explained earlier that they were different tones, and holding them up to each ear would do interesting - but positive - things to our brains. And then she would wave the tuning forks around our bodies to - wait for it - clear our energy fields. So even with my eyes closed I could sense her waving her hands back and forth in front of my face, and I will not pretend that I understood what the hell my energy was doing at that moment. But I still enjoy the mental image of me lying on the ground in my fuschia pants and having someone wave tuning forks around my lifeless body like some kind of deranged air traffic controller.
At some point, multiple people fell asleep, so the snoring added a nice little addition to our sound bathing. Bing bong CHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SNORT buzzzzzzz. Something like that.
The last part of the bath was for us to work with vibrations from the inside. We sat up, and the leader played some kind of weird instrument while we all experimented with various vowel sounds. So I, along with everyone else, spent about 15 minutes sitting with closed eyes, crossed legs, and one hand over our hearts, going:
"AaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAyyyyyyyyyyyyIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"
And then it was over.
We left the room, and in the foyer there was some tea that one of the participants had provided, so we sat around drinking tea and comparing experiences. My outfit twin and new Jew friends were super into the reiki and the tuning forks, so they are clearly both lightyears ahead of me as far as detecting energy is concerned. I will say though that the mood after the sound bath was super light and relaxed and happy and I could have sworn that maybe I was picking up on the energy in the room and not just my own mood. But who even knows.
I left the sound bath completely relaxed, which was more or less ruined by the fact that it was cold outside and I somehow managed to walk in the wrong direction for 10 minutes before even realizing what I was doing. But overall it was an interesting experience. I would be tempted to go back, mostly to see my sound bath besties again, who swore they would return each month. But I'm not 100% sure if I want to spend another twenty dollars for an hour and a half of bing bongs.
My "fuck you" to ignorance
Friday, April 11, 2014
Labels:
Blogging,
Our country has problems
A month or so ago, I was invited to write for a site that I won't name. It was a group blog with a decent readership, authored by a diverse group of people. The owner approached me because he thought they could use the voice of a "young, urban female" and he liked what he read here.
I was extremely flattered, as no one ever asks me to write anywhere. More than that, I was intimidated. The posts that I read there were well-written and intelligent, if somewhat bordering on intellectual to the point of being dry. It was a far cry from the occasional storytelling and whatever else it is that I do here, but I was excited about the challenge and signed on for their standard requirement: 3 posts a month about anything I wanted.
I wrote a few posts but never linked to any of them because I didn't care that much about them, and I ended up mostly skipping or skimming the posts from the other authors (that whole "dry intellectual" thing is really not what I like to read in my free time). A few titles caught my eye, though, so occasionally I read some things.
And frankly, I was disgusted.
I found myself reading a post talking about how Equal Pay Day is "hooey." I read a post about how feminism is a bunch of bullshit because men have been the oppressed gender all along. I read a rant about "lefties" and their tyranny in forcing Brendan Eich out of the top spot at Mozilla because of his past donation to Prop 8. And that wasn't even all of them.
I read these posts and fumed. I wrote, and never published, angry retorts. I decided I didn't want to get involved in a comment war that would surely end in nothing but frustration. Where does one even begin in trying to reason with someone who doesn't believe the data saying women are paid less than men?
The more I read, the more I hated myself for being a part of that site, and the less I ever wanted to link to any of my posts and drive traffic there. I knew that this site encompassed a diverse range of perspectives but, perhaps naively, it had never crossed my mind that among the diversity would also be bigotry. Living in a city as wonderfully liberal as New York, you never really encounter those people. You know, the ones who don't believe in things like, oh I don't know, fucking equality.
I sent the site owner the following email:
While I never thought I would last forever on the site, I certainly thought I would make it longer than this. But alas, here I am, tendering my resignation as an author on ----. In my short time there I've seen a few too many ignorant, hateful posts that stem from people leaning so far to the right that they're actually just leaning backwards. I've never been one to mind those of different political leanings when it comes to, say, fiscal conservatism or the debate over universal healthcare, but I can't get down with anyone who legitimately does not believe in a) all humans being treated as equals, and b) that there is so much work to be done towards said equality. While I realize that others' opinions don't reflect on me, I have no desire to share the same virtual space as them. And so I thank you so much for this opportunity, as you have been nothing but gracious to me, but I cannot continue with this. I apologize for all the effort you went through to get me on board, and I do hope you find a new "young urban female" voice soon. Perhaps one that is a little braver than I and wants to tackle the challenge of converting the ignorant over simply choosing to surround herself with people who believe in equality, open-mindedness and tolerance - and only those people.
Arielle
Our exchange went on from there, and included the owner linking me to a photo of the offending author's son and his African American prom date, which he had posted as a comment elsewhere on the site. The intent was to make me see that this person is not, in fact, a bigot. I told the owner that I was glad that at least this man had evolved enough to accept racial minorities as equals. And after a few more back and forths, we had said our goodbyes.
At first I thought maybe I should have stayed on as an author, using my "young, urban female"ness - 3 qualities which seemed to be underrepresented on the site - to make some impassioned arguments in favor of some of those values that we "lefties" hold so dear. But I didn't join the site to go to war. I didn't want to read posts by "colleagues" and feel outrage. Writing is a hobby for me; something I do for fun. And so I said my non-literal "fuck you" to ignorance and left. It may have been the quietest possible "fuck you" I could have mustered in that situation, but I was making my point.
If having tolerant, accepting, loving friends and family is a bubble I'm sheltering myself with, I will happily stay cocooned in here most of the time. I like to believe that in the moments when I do choose to fight the good fight, it has been, and will be, in ways more powerful and effective than a petty comment war could have ever been.
I was extremely flattered, as no one ever asks me to write anywhere. More than that, I was intimidated. The posts that I read there were well-written and intelligent, if somewhat bordering on intellectual to the point of being dry. It was a far cry from the occasional storytelling and whatever else it is that I do here, but I was excited about the challenge and signed on for their standard requirement: 3 posts a month about anything I wanted.
I wrote a few posts but never linked to any of them because I didn't care that much about them, and I ended up mostly skipping or skimming the posts from the other authors (that whole "dry intellectual" thing is really not what I like to read in my free time). A few titles caught my eye, though, so occasionally I read some things.
And frankly, I was disgusted.
I found myself reading a post talking about how Equal Pay Day is "hooey." I read a post about how feminism is a bunch of bullshit because men have been the oppressed gender all along. I read a rant about "lefties" and their tyranny in forcing Brendan Eich out of the top spot at Mozilla because of his past donation to Prop 8. And that wasn't even all of them.
I read these posts and fumed. I wrote, and never published, angry retorts. I decided I didn't want to get involved in a comment war that would surely end in nothing but frustration. Where does one even begin in trying to reason with someone who doesn't believe the data saying women are paid less than men?
The more I read, the more I hated myself for being a part of that site, and the less I ever wanted to link to any of my posts and drive traffic there. I knew that this site encompassed a diverse range of perspectives but, perhaps naively, it had never crossed my mind that among the diversity would also be bigotry. Living in a city as wonderfully liberal as New York, you never really encounter those people. You know, the ones who don't believe in things like, oh I don't know, fucking equality.
I sent the site owner the following email:
While I never thought I would last forever on the site, I certainly thought I would make it longer than this. But alas, here I am, tendering my resignation as an author on ----. In my short time there I've seen a few too many ignorant, hateful posts that stem from people leaning so far to the right that they're actually just leaning backwards. I've never been one to mind those of different political leanings when it comes to, say, fiscal conservatism or the debate over universal healthcare, but I can't get down with anyone who legitimately does not believe in a) all humans being treated as equals, and b) that there is so much work to be done towards said equality. While I realize that others' opinions don't reflect on me, I have no desire to share the same virtual space as them. And so I thank you so much for this opportunity, as you have been nothing but gracious to me, but I cannot continue with this. I apologize for all the effort you went through to get me on board, and I do hope you find a new "young urban female" voice soon. Perhaps one that is a little braver than I and wants to tackle the challenge of converting the ignorant over simply choosing to surround herself with people who believe in equality, open-mindedness and tolerance - and only those people.
Arielle
Our exchange went on from there, and included the owner linking me to a photo of the offending author's son and his African American prom date, which he had posted as a comment elsewhere on the site. The intent was to make me see that this person is not, in fact, a bigot. I told the owner that I was glad that at least this man had evolved enough to accept racial minorities as equals. And after a few more back and forths, we had said our goodbyes.
At first I thought maybe I should have stayed on as an author, using my "young, urban female"ness - 3 qualities which seemed to be underrepresented on the site - to make some impassioned arguments in favor of some of those values that we "lefties" hold so dear. But I didn't join the site to go to war. I didn't want to read posts by "colleagues" and feel outrage. Writing is a hobby for me; something I do for fun. And so I said my non-literal "fuck you" to ignorance and left. It may have been the quietest possible "fuck you" I could have mustered in that situation, but I was making my point.
If having tolerant, accepting, loving friends and family is a bubble I'm sheltering myself with, I will happily stay cocooned in here most of the time. I like to believe that in the moments when I do choose to fight the good fight, it has been, and will be, in ways more powerful and effective than a petty comment war could have ever been.
Yes or No?
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Labels:
Stratejoy Monday
I recently saw several people post a link to this article from O magazine, called 20 Questions Every Woman Should Ask Herself. It sounded like exactly the kind of article that I would start reading and get bored of halfway through, because as someone who used to blog for a life coaching site, and who is friendly with other people who used to blog for that same life coaching site, and who has also seen a few more people become life coaches, and let me see how many more times I can say life coach in this sentence life coach life coach life coach, I feel like I've hit my saturation point for woman-oriented life advice.
Plus, as much as I think Oprah is a total badass, I'm not sure she can really give me advice. Oprah is a self-made billionaire. Until she can tell me how to find a job so I can stop waking up in cold sweats worrying about the impending end date of my current job (June 30th) and my looming descent into ANOTHER round of unemployment, I'm not interested.
But anyway, I clicked on the article and, as predicted, lost interest halfway through. But not before I arrived at question #8, which was: "Do I know how to say no?" This, of course, arrived after question #7: "Do I say yes enough?"
The yes/no continuum seems to be polarizing in the realm of women's life advice. The two sides look like this:
SAY YES TO LITERALLY EVERYTHING
Open your heart to new experiences! Don't be afraid! When an opportunity comes along, say yes! Discover your gorgeous truth through the power of "yes"! If you feel like saying no to something, say yes anyway! It will change you as a woman FOREVER!
SAY NO TO EVERYTHING, BE A HERMIT, HERMITS ARE COOL
Do you not want to do something? Say no! Do you want to maybe do something but you also maybe want to sit on your ass eating Ben & Jerry's and Netflixing the shit out of House of Cards? Say no! Don't let anyone force you out of those pajama pants, girlfriend!
I would like to meet a woman who isn't tired of reading stuff about saying yes or saying no. Whatever happened to maybe, the ugly stepsister of yes and no? Let's all be non-committal! I'm kidding. Don't be non-committal. That sucks.
For what it's worth, which may be nothing, I'm always on the side of saying yes. I love pajama pants not just as much as the next girl but even more so. But I also love actually living life. You know what's not living life? Netflix. Look, I'm not saying you should partake in every single activity that comes your way. I have a friend who constantly invites me to super trendy clubs, and while I love killing my feet in uncomfortable heels and paying $16 for drinks and being so close to other people that there isn't any room to dance WAIT HAHA I HATE THOSE THINGS. So I don't go. (I went once. It was okay, but I'm all set now for at least a year).
But if someone asks you to do something that legitimately could be fun, and you're all, "Weeeeeell I have laundry to do" or "Weeeeell Game of Thrones is on" or "Weeeeeell I have to wake up in 16 hours," then, amigo, you should just fucking go. I recently texted a friend to see if he wanted to join me for a last minute free concert of a band I knew he liked. He hemmed and hawed and said no. And then changed his mind at the actual last second. The concert was great, and as we walked towards the subway, he said, "I'm really glad I ended up coming to the show. I was really tired but I knew that I never regret saying yes to stuff like this."
Supremely long digression aside, in this Oprah article, the "yes" question had some BS verbiage that I didn't read. But the text after "Do I know how to say no?" had only the following quote from Martha Beck:
"Here is the crux of the matter, the distilled essence, the only thing you need to remember: When considering whether to say yes or no, you must choose the response that feels like freedom. Period."
If ever there was such a succinctly beautiful statement in all of life coaching literature, I've never heard it.
Choose the response that feels like freedom.
Amazing.
Plus, as much as I think Oprah is a total badass, I'm not sure she can really give me advice. Oprah is a self-made billionaire. Until she can tell me how to find a job so I can stop waking up in cold sweats worrying about the impending end date of my current job (June 30th) and my looming descent into ANOTHER round of unemployment, I'm not interested.
But anyway, I clicked on the article and, as predicted, lost interest halfway through. But not before I arrived at question #8, which was: "Do I know how to say no?" This, of course, arrived after question #7: "Do I say yes enough?"
The yes/no continuum seems to be polarizing in the realm of women's life advice. The two sides look like this:
SAY YES TO LITERALLY EVERYTHING
Open your heart to new experiences! Don't be afraid! When an opportunity comes along, say yes! Discover your gorgeous truth through the power of "yes"! If you feel like saying no to something, say yes anyway! It will change you as a woman FOREVER!
SAY NO TO EVERYTHING, BE A HERMIT, HERMITS ARE COOL
Do you not want to do something? Say no! Do you want to maybe do something but you also maybe want to sit on your ass eating Ben & Jerry's and Netflixing the shit out of House of Cards? Say no! Don't let anyone force you out of those pajama pants, girlfriend!
I would like to meet a woman who isn't tired of reading stuff about saying yes or saying no. Whatever happened to maybe, the ugly stepsister of yes and no? Let's all be non-committal! I'm kidding. Don't be non-committal. That sucks.
For what it's worth, which may be nothing, I'm always on the side of saying yes. I love pajama pants not just as much as the next girl but even more so. But I also love actually living life. You know what's not living life? Netflix. Look, I'm not saying you should partake in every single activity that comes your way. I have a friend who constantly invites me to super trendy clubs, and while I love killing my feet in uncomfortable heels and paying $16 for drinks and being so close to other people that there isn't any room to dance WAIT HAHA I HATE THOSE THINGS. So I don't go. (I went once. It was okay, but I'm all set now for at least a year).
But if someone asks you to do something that legitimately could be fun, and you're all, "Weeeeeell I have laundry to do" or "Weeeeell Game of Thrones is on" or "Weeeeeell I have to wake up in 16 hours," then, amigo, you should just fucking go. I recently texted a friend to see if he wanted to join me for a last minute free concert of a band I knew he liked. He hemmed and hawed and said no. And then changed his mind at the actual last second. The concert was great, and as we walked towards the subway, he said, "I'm really glad I ended up coming to the show. I was really tired but I knew that I never regret saying yes to stuff like this."
Supremely long digression aside, in this Oprah article, the "yes" question had some BS verbiage that I didn't read. But the text after "Do I know how to say no?" had only the following quote from Martha Beck:
"Here is the crux of the matter, the distilled essence, the only thing you need to remember: When considering whether to say yes or no, you must choose the response that feels like freedom. Period."
If ever there was such a succinctly beautiful statement in all of life coaching literature, I've never heard it.
Choose the response that feels like freedom.
Amazing.