Disappearing acts, part 2

Don’t blame Facebook–I haven’t spent that much time on it.  I have 16 friends now.  I like seeing their status updates and I very much enjoyed reconnecting with a high school friend I haven’t been in touch with in years.  He sounds happy, and like someone who appreciates his life.

Although the way Facebook works seems to make pretty good sense, there are still some things I don’t quite understand.  And I’m pestered by the feeling that I could be going about friending people more methodically–I’ve been pretty haphazard so far, instead of starting with my inner circle and fanning outward.  I suppose that’s the way it works.  I looked at my sister’s friend list, sent friend requests to a few of them, then went and did something else.  Later I did the same with Stubb’s and FLS’s.  I suppose eventually, if I pay attention, the web of connections will get filled in.  Right now I have:

  • Stubb
  • my sister and cousin
  • FLS and two other college friends who live nearby
  • 1 friend from grad school and her sister
  • 2 former students (graduated ’99)
  • 4 people I know and like through FLS’s social gatherings
  • 1 high school friend
  • 1 good friend of Stubb’s

Anyway, I came to the computer to post because I was having an episode of generalized anxiety, probably not unrelated to the fact that it is Sunday night, and planning to post a question to the universe like “Why is it that sometimes I am able to accept my failings with cheerful equanimity, and sometimes one wrong move makes me feel like the world’s worst person?  And why can I intellectually grasp that my feelings are not reflective of reality, and yet not be able to rid myself of this sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach?” 

However, I now feel better, which I attribute to:

I realize that there’s probably nothing magical about this particular kind of sensory distraction and that washing your brain in a good smell or some soothing music or a brisk walk probably works just as well, but I have to say I love the idea of improvement in thirty seconds.  I hum “Frère Jacques,” hearing it played by a violin and a cello in my head; then I count.  I do feel better.  Or at least I think I do, which is the same thing when it comes to these bad Sunday evenings.

 

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5 responses to this post.

  1. My Sunday night consisted of grading until 1:00 a.m., which on the one hand totally sucked but on the other hand relieved me of the enormous burden of grading guilt I’ve been carrying around for over a week.

    I hope that you’re feeling better now that it’s Monday and you’ve been humming!

    Reply

  2. Posted by meansomething on January 27, 2009 at 12:41 am

    Oh, tons better–even though I now have serious prepping to do!

    Reply

  3. I’ve been counting and humming for years, he didn’t tell you. Not alternating them, but just doing them. Very proactive stuff.

    Reply

  4. Posted by FLS on February 9, 2009 at 9:20 pm

    I like the humming and counting thing! I found a relaxation suggestion somewhere — maybe in that Anne LaMott book you gave me — that involves surrounding yourself in a cloud of color, and then cycling it through the spectrum. I find that the effort expended to both picture the cloud and remember the order of colors effectively keeps my mind off of anything else. It was intended as a childbirth thing but I have used it at the dentist and when needing to calm a whirring mind in order to sleep. Plus, I love rainbows.

    Reply

  5. Posted by meansomething on February 11, 2009 at 3:18 pm

    Wow, I have never heard that before, so I doubt it’s from Anne Lamott, although it sure sounds like it could be. I’ll be trying that next.

    Reply

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