There’s No Place Like Ommm … At Least, Randy Can’t Find It
An exercise called “Two True” has recently become very popular in offices
around Richmond, at departmental retreats, at team-building meetings and the
like. Each person attending is asked to write down two true personal facts
of which his or her colleagues are not likely to be aware, as well as one
personal “fact” that is not true. Then the three statements are read aloud
and everyone tries to decide which is the false statement. This is an
exercise to determine how well co-workers actually know each other, as well
as an opportunity for them to get to know each other better.
I’ve played this little game several times in several different places. The
facts I’ve revealed at these various sessions have included: 1) I once sat
around a living room and sang “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” with Art Garfunkel;
2) I once caught a foul ball at a Braves game; 3) I once lost a Pepsi-Cola
truck I was driving on a summer job; 4) One of my good friends is the
world’s largest leech grower; 5) I’ve had my picture taken with Mikhail
Gorbachev; 6) I’ve sat across the table from a man who murdered three
people; 7) My wife and I briefly had a stand-up comedy act; and 8) I
refinished all the floors in the upstairs of my house.
Now that’s an easy one, because anybody who spent even a week alongside me
at work would know there’s no way I could refinish a floor. I can’t use a
stapler without gumming up the works, so handling a sander is clearly out.
In fact, I am no longer even allowed to use the office copier—others in the
department are eager to do my copying for me because they can’t afford the
downtime while they wait for the repairman.
I thought I would give you this little introduction to the Two True/One
False exercise as a prelude to telling you something that anyone who knows
me, or anyone who has been reading my columns in various places over the
years, will never believe. But this, my friends, is a true confession.
I own a yoga mat.
My son, Kyle, gave it to me back when I found out I had diabetes and a heart
problem in the same year. Both of those health problems, interestingly, can
be tackled the same three ways: I watch my diet and eat right, I get off my
duff and exercise at least three times a week, and I work to lower the
stress level in my life.
The first two I handle pretty well—it’s the third one that’s the lie.
One would think that after the age of 50 or so, stress would automatically
be reduced. After all, with any luck, at that point we’re not still
struggling up the ladder of success. With any luck we’re not out there in
the dating minefield anymore. With any luck, we’ve made a few good plans for
retirement. Our friends are in place, our home is our castle, our kids are
on their own.
So why are so many of the folks in my age group so stressed out? I don’t
know why, but I’m among them.
I’m ashamed to tell you how few times I have used my yoga mat, although I
have often aspired to. Barb took a yoga class for awhile at the health
center we joined up the street, and one day she invited me to join her. I
arrived late and the class was already underway. There were ladies in there
standing on their heads. They would stretch out, bring their knees to chest
and completely roll over backwards. They were coming very close to doing
cheerleader splits.
I stood in the doorway a few minutes and watched, and then I took my
still-rolled-up yoga mat and went home.
This summer I have read two books on meditation. I have followed their
suggestions to the letter, but I have been unable to empty my head. It is
impossible to think about nothing. I sit down to meditate in a quiet house,
practice my Ommmm, and in the middle of it, I start to think about the
bamboo in the yard. I push that out of my head and what’s for lunch creeps
in.
So on my own, I have come up with a couple of things this summer that really
seem to relieve stress, and I am happy to share them with you. Besides, the
next time anyone asks me to play Two True, I’m ready. 1) I’m taking yoga and
meditation classes. 2) I’m taking banjo lessons. 3) I’m learning how to
yodel.
I’ll give you a clue about the one of those you probably think is false: my
wife says my yodeling is really stressing her out.
Randy Fitzgerald is chair of the English and journalism department at Virginia Union University. He is a former Richmond Times-Dispatch columnist and University of Richmond administrator. His blog is www.randyfitzgerald.blog.com.