“Deal with your stress,” said Destiny.
No metaphor here. Destiny actually spoke those words.
I had scheduled my annual appointment for a free fitness analysis through Centegra Hospital in early March with Emilee, the trainer.
At least I thought I had.
The confirmation email reminded me about my appointment in late February with Destiny.
Someone clicked the wrong date with the wrong trainer.
Although inconvenient, NO WAY would I cancel an appointment with Destiny.
I had read Rhonda Byrne’s The Secret. While a skeptic of the Law of Attraction, I couldn’t bring myself to tempt fate.
I kept my date with Destiny.
Destiny, all wild curls and snappy eyes, was a personification of her namesake. Her infectious laugh quieted when discussing my health habits.
The discussion went something like this.
Destiny: Do you drink?
Me: Yes, daily.
Destiny: Do you smoke?
Me: No, I limit my bad habits and smoking would take away from my drinking.
Destiny: How would you rate your stress?
Me: Moderate to high.
Puzzled, Destiny checked my background information.
Destiny: Aren’t you retired?
Me: Yes, except I substitute teach and tutor and am a wine consumer educator on the weekends. Oh, I write, too. I have a weekly blog, and I’m working on two books.
Destiny (summing it up): So you find the activities you choose create stress.
Me (Light bulb snapping on over my head): I’m a self-inflicted stress syndrome victim.
Destiny: Find an activity that’s relaxing. Have you tried meditation?
Me: Yes, that didn’t work out so well. My mind kept wandering and I ended up counting backwards by sevens from 100. That’s a test for dementia. I practiced in between calming my mind and becoming one with the Universe. I calculated as far as negative three digit numbers. I guess I’m ok.
Me: Yes, I read every night. That’s when I study authors’ style and explore topics for my blog posts. Which sounds like work now that I think of it.
Me: Of course, I have my iPad open as well to monitor substitute teaching alerts and wine consumer education events from my email during commercials and predictable parts of the program. Hmmm, I’m detecting a pattern here.
Destiny looking hopeful: Yoga, there’s a wonderful Yoga program offered.
Me: That sounds like an option.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her about the rolled up yoga mat under my bed. I had tried yoga with the intention of building my core AND relaxing at the same time. (Multitasking is my middle name.) While the instructor guided the class slowly through the positions with a gentle voice, inside I shouted “HURRY UP! I HAVE TO RELAX NOW! I HAVE STUFF TO DO!)
Perhaps the wrongly scheduled appointment was just a mistake.
However, I may give meditation another try . . . without the counting.