Friday, August 25, 2023

COLUMN: Calm


It's been almost two months since I decided to spice up my summer by suffering a heart attack. I'm in no real hurry to have another one, so I've been trying my hardest to turn over a new leaf. Obviously, diet and exercise are key here, but I also can't help but wonder if stress may have played a role.

I never thought of myself as an especially stress-filled person. I don't lie in bed EVERY night tossing and turning with worry -- only some of the nights. I'm not easily triggered, and I only fly off the handle on special occasions. Emotionally, I've always thought I was fairly even-keeled. But I've spent the past couple months taking stock of my life, and I might be a little more stressed out than previously thought.

I love my job, but it's fueled by the constant pressure of deadlines and goals. On the weekends, I hang out in DJ booths trying to bring a party soundtrack to a crowd of people who could turn on you the minute you play the wrong song. I worry about my family and friends. I worry about finances. I worry about my health. I worry about worrying too much. I do an okay job at presenting myself as somewhat cool and collected, but maybe I'm a neurotic mess on the inside?

While I'm pretty sure my heart attack was brought on mostly by the fun sins of gluttony and sloth, I'd also like to take this time of lifestyle change to remove stress from my life where possible. I'm just not exactly sure how to do it. There's loads of books on the subject. There's countless podcasts and self-help websites devoted to relieving stress. I could try yoga or meditation. I could find religion. I could practice my breathing. I could ask a nice doctor for some happy pills.

Instead, I bought a virtual reality headset.

Oh, who am I kidding? I already owned one. Yes, I'm a fully grown adult who has the toys of a teenager. I think I've used it a good half-dozen times. The headsets are fun, but they look ridiculous, and if I'm being totally honest, it kinda makes me motion-sick. Also, it's a little unnerving to put on a pair of goggles and suddenly lose all connection to the real world. What if I'm sitting there with my headset playing virtual tennis while my kitchen catches fire or my home gets invaded by knife-wielding bandits? That'd be the all-time most embarassing way to get mugged. Worst of all, what if a girl were to ever see me in this ridiculous get-up? For these reasons, my virtual reality headset has spent more time gathering dust than power-ups.

But recently, I've been reading about these trendy stress-relieving apps and games for VR headsets. So I dusted off the ol' Oculus, downloaded a popular app that promotes calmness and serenity, and transported myself to a virtual reality where surely all of the stress in my life would just melt away.

These apps promise you a guided voyage to serenity. In full disclosure, the ones I tried just make you float around non-threatening virtual worlds while hokey new age music plays and you're somehow supposed to find tranquil inner peace. I don't get it. Here's a play-by-play of what my brain saw, felt, and experienced that afternoon:

Ooookay, so I've started the app and I appear to be... moving? Floating? Wait, am I flying? I'm totally flying. HOW am I flying? I can't see my body. Do I have wings? Nope, no wings. I think I'm just your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill, gravity-defying flying human. 

This doesn't seem stress-relieving -- this seems dangerous. How far is down? WHOA. It is a LOOOOONG ways down. Unless I'm made out of rubber or pillows, I don't think I'd survive a fall from this altitude. I feel sick.

Where even am I? In the distance, I can see a stalagmite. I think I'm in a cave. Yep, it's a big virtual cave. Great, nothing scary about that. I'm flying in a cave... just like a peaceful, serene, rabid bat. But here's the weird part. There doesn't appear to be any escape. Each way I turn, there's a cave wall way off in the distance. But I don't see a single door, window, vent, tunnel, or shaft.  

Oh, God. How much air is left in this subterranean prison? Am I going to virtually die? Wait, do I even need air? Does my weird floating non-existent body even have lungs? Maybe air isn't needed. Maybe I'm a ghost. 

The BIG question, though, is that my virtual cave is also playing some seriously hippie-dippie new age music. I'm pretty sure I just heard a pan flute. Let me fly around the perimeter real quick and... nope, no sign of Enya or Zamfir or Yanni anywhere. Yet the music remains. Somewhere in this cave, there must an impressive virtual speaker system. The cave appears to be at least ten stories tall, yet there's not even a hint of an echo. I wonder if these stalagmites are made of acoustic sound-dampening foam. I want to meet this cave's audio engineer.

But there's no time for that, because I'm currently being swarmed by virtual butterflies gingerly flappig around. GROSS. If there's virtual butterflies, that means there's virtual caterpillars crawling around somewhere, not to mention the potential now exists for VIRTUAL BEES. Did I hear a buzz? I'll just fly around as quickly as possible to outrun all this digusting virtual nature. Also, did anyone check and make sure these butterflies aren't poisonous? We're in a virtual world of limitless possibility. For all we know about these magical butterflies, they could have fangs and talons and lay eggs inside your brain. 

And that is how I spent my first session with a stress-relieving calmness app: wondering what it would feel like to have your brains slowly eaten by fanged cave butterfly larvae while listening to pan flute.

On second thought, I think I'll just stick with the happy pills.

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