Stress Relief
I never liked airport hotel bars. It's the same cast of characters, all of whom you do not know. Business travelers who should be home with their families not wanting to sit alone in their rooms until bedtime or who are just so worn out from the day that they need some liquid anesthesia.
I've been a road warrior for most of my career. So why am I sitting here chatting with some fellow about nothing?
Because after I checked in and headed to the elevator, I came around the corner and almost knocked him down. A profuse apology then morphed into an offer to buy him a drink. I'm not sure how it did; he just seemed to maneuver the conversation into a place where it made sense.
So, we're here making small talk -- one scotch down and another one the way -- and he pulls out this device he says is like one of those fitness bracelets except it reduces stress. It's an opaque cube which acts like one of the old mood rings, only it's more durable and more responsive.
The second round comes, and I close out the tab 'cause it's been a long day, but I'm intrigued, and he has a very gentle but persuasive way of talking, and so I give it a try.
All you do it place it in you palm, wait a few seconds and the chip senses your heart rate and skin resistance and gives off a pulsing color that matches heart rate and indicates your mood/anxiety level. So I hold it and sure enough it starts pulsing and putting out a blue-purple light.
"Interesting," he says. "You have a pretty low heart rate and an equally low level of stress. The color indicates a lack of tension."
"Well, I run as much as the knees will tolerate, and with a shot and half in me at this time of the night, yeah, I'm pretty relaxed," I reply.
"Let's see if you can bring the rate down and make the color more purple," he says.
"What? Take some deep breaths?" I ask.
"Not quite that simple," he says, his voice getting lower.
Holding my hand still to keep the cube balanced, I lean in to hear him better. "Like what," I say.
"I'm going to speak to you softly, and I want you to visualize what I'm saying. Focus on the cube and my voice and be as calm as you can but watch the cube---watch the cube--that's it----see how it's color flows and how the pulse gets a little slower," he said, his voice falling into a rhythm that matched my heart rate.
"I do," I said. "I feel like I'm starting to float." The blue was fading into an indigo.
"Don't talk---just listen and concentrate. I know you can relax more. Breath more slowly, watch the pulse carefully, listen to my voice, trust that my voice will take you to the goal. It's getting slower, just like my voice. It's becoming more relaxing, just like my voice. And as it turns more and more purple, you trust me more and more because I am controlling the cube through you. I control you and the cube follows suit."
"Mmmmhmmmm, " was all I could say. His voice was completely surrounding me, all I could see was the cube, all I wanted to do was get the cube to be one color.
"Think how soft and warm you feel right now, think how gentle and soothing my voice is, this is so easy to do---follow my suggestions, follow my direction," he murmured. His voice was much closer to me now.
"And now just a little more deeper. Go just a little deeper for me and you will be where I want you to be---where you want to be--------totally relaxed, totally open, totally at ease.
And in the space of two breaths, the cube turned purple. All I could do was stare at it.
He continued to talk in a very low voice for another moment. I had the sense he was thanking me for inviting him to join me; that he was grateful for the invitation. But I was just looking at the cube.
He put his hand over mine gently and covered the cube. Slowly I came out of it and tried to focus--but it took a moment. He was watching me, sort of bemused but looking into my eyes.
"Are you OK," he asked. "Sometimes folks go too deep and fall over dead asleep when I demonstrate this."
"Ohhhh," I said sort of confused. "I'm fine. Just trying to climb up out of the hole. This thing is interesting. Are you selling them?"
"No, it's a prototype. It doesn't quite have the, ahh, endurance we want. It runs out of power too soon if the person is not able to relax. But you did well. When we release it, you should get one."
"Well, I'll keep an eye out for one," I said. "But thanks for the show, and again, I'm sorry about the collision."
Stretching as I stood, "I've got an early call tomorrow."
"Me too," he said standing as I did.
I led the way out and headed to the elevator. He followed me in and when I punched 3, he said, 'Ah, same floor."
I said something about coincidence as the door opened. I stepped off, checked the direction sign, and headed to the right. He followed.
"More coincidence," he said staying a few feet back.
Under different circumstances, my guard might have been up, but this was coincidence---stuff like this happens every now and then.
My room was where it always was--away from the elevator but not too far down the hall.
I stopped, pulled out the key card as he came up. "Well, nice meeting you; thanks again for the show," I said, switching hands to get the key in the slot.
He stopped behind me. "My pleasure," he said.
I turned to look back at him. "Good night," I said.
"When you invite me in, it will be," he said.
Startled, I looked at him hard---now the guard was up. "Excuse me?" I said, "What did you just say?"
Unfortunately, looking at him was the wrong thing to do. I stared straight into his eyes. They had a sort of greenish tint to them. And for a second or two I was distracted. And then I couldn't look away.
"That's right," he said. "Look at me, look at my eyes. "
I was dumbfounded. I could not look away.
"You are supposed to invite me in," he said. "I can't come in unless you invite me. It's the polite thing to do you know. You trust me, you feel relaxed around me, you have no concern listening to me and agree that what I am saying makes sense. Ask me in, please."
His eyes seemed to get greener. His voice was telling me things I accepted; things I had heard before; things that made sense.
"I, uhhhh, I'm sorry, uhhhh." I stammered. I pushed on the door and then held it. "Uhhhh, come in."
His eyes never left mine. I could not pull away from his.