The other day, I returned to the MRI clinic where I got my knee scanned last summer. (I wanted more of the orange foam earplugs given to patients. They look ordinary but block noise better than any others I’ve tried. I use them when it’s not quiet enough for sleep.)
In the elevator, I met a woman also heading to the MRI clinic. She was due for a second scan, and she was anxious: the noise, the tunnel, the claustrophobia. She even brought a friend for support.
I’d experienced the exact opposite reaction. Weird as it might seem, I rather enjoyed the process: lying down, not moving, for 20 or so minutes. The noise level was not excessive (thanks to those earplugs, plus headphones to hear the technician’s voice).
Perhaps that’s because I rarely sit still (not counting working on my computer or eating a meal). Any situation that forces me to be still is welcome. I like pre-flight time at the airport, reading a long-awaited novel and daydreaming with impunity. I like waiting rooms, where I have an excuse to rifle through glossy fashion magazines. I really like massage and haircuts, where I’m not only still but also pampered.
In yoga, Savasana and restorative poses are all about stillness, physically and mentally. But, outside of class, how often do I do a long Savasana or a gentle class? Rarely. Okay, never.
My occasional episodes of forced stillness do me well. Maybe they should be less occasional and more regular. Doing a restorative practice once a week might be just the ticket.
Note: My MRI was normal, and my knee healed on its own. Go figure.
Image: Gingy, my late kitty who slept in perfect, symmetrical alignment.