The Opposite of Serene


Wherein Our Heroine Shouldn't Even Try.
If someone were listing adjectives that describe Our Heroine, "serene" would not probably crack the top 1,000. I have always thought serenity seemed to be a lovely quality - cool and soothing, like a quiet pond on a hot summer day. It looks wonderful, but I've never been able to manage it. My brain is too cranky and spiky, my body is too clumsy, and my eyes are too direct.

Lately, I've gone far past not-serene all the way into the borderlands of gibbering lunacy. Even doing something that seems soothing and slow, my brain goes wocketa-wocketa and my motions endanger fragile objects in my path. I made bread yesterday, and while the results were extremely edible, I was no grounded, Earth-mother. Instead, I felt as if I was all flying elbows and spinning head.

Even in sleep, I can't find serenity. I drop into that still, dark pond of blissful nowhere-ness, and then feel as if I'm spending half the night participating in high-stakes role-playing. These dreams are frenetic - I'm always responsible for something, there is always at least one more issue to cope with, and even the settings are filled with action and motion. My dream-self interviews for a job in a busy office, drives a taxi through labyrinthine streets, and navigates a station where trains seem to thunder through in various directions every second.

At the same time, my body aches for relaxation and my monkey-mind wants to stop swinging frantically from tree to tree. I can find some small, almost automatic relaxation in yoga, but it does not penetrate beyond the surface. My mind reins in a tiny bit, then continues its restless action.

So yes, I'm seeking for something I never had, and trying to find it in the least likely circumstances. Serenity will never come easily to me, but I'm a fool to feel its absence now.
Posted: Tuesday - October 05, 2004 at 08:26 AM         | |

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