Thoughts on a splinter

Last night, as Jonah diligently attempted to remove a tiny splinter of unknown origin out of my foot, I realized that despite the pain of the tweezers, there was something purely relaxing about being made to sit still. I instantly remembered my love of visiting the doctor. (Provided I am entirely confident of my good health beforehand, whereby you suggest, "then why would you be going to the doctor?) It is the yearly checkup that I love so, and not all of it, but specifically the parts where my nose, ears, mouth and eyes are checked out, followed by the cool stethoscope examining my breathing and heartbeat. I also don't mind the height check. The reason, I deduced last night, was because it too, requires that I sit still. Another instance came to my mind last night of being a portrait model for my roommates while I attended art school. This of course, required complete stillness (not to mention a healthy (?) dose of vanity).

So what is it about being told to sit still that so irritates a child under the age of eight, but for me, creates absolute calm? I believe it is the habit I've gotten into, ever since I understood the meaning of being "productive," that has made me run around like a chicken with it's, you know, trying to get and be and finish and start as many things as possible. Meanwhile, I'm getting absolutely nothing done, drinking questionably unhealthy amounts of coffee, and summarizing my life into periods of procrastination or distraction. I can't count the amount of times I ask myself each day, "What am I doing with my life???," and all those other "woe-is-me" declarations that I will spare you from reading.

Maybe it has something to do with the theory behind meditation... Meditation, like running a mile every morning before breakfast, has become one of those things that I always say would solve all my issues if I could just get into doing it. However, in times like last night, when I was forced to surrender my task-oriented sensibility, I like to think that I practiced a mini-meditation of sorts. And this morning, after deciding that I would run after breakfast (that would be now), the radio, which normally opens my day with the grim economic forecast and the traffic report reminding me that I don't own a car, has remained off. While the ticking of the wall clock coupled with the keystrokes of my computer is starting to sound rather zen.