Self-Help Test Drive: Relaxation Techniques From Centerpointe Research Institute

Here’s contributor Carole Braden’s first of four posts in the debut of Blisstree’s Self-Help Test-Drive.

It was Marshie, an acquaintance from the Internet, who hooked me up with my spacey brain candy from the Centerpointe Research Institute. We happened to be living nearly identical fertility nightmares, and had been introduced through email by friends. I liked her wacky name and caring notes, and revealed to her the harrowing turns of my years-long kid quest.

In response to my online opining about how crazy-making a course of IVF – in which I was then embroiled – could be, Marshie asked me a key question: “How relaxed are you?”

How relaxed? Not one iota. Despite my devotion to yoga and weekly treatments from an acupuncturist, I had to admit it: I couldn’t recall experiencing anything more than lamely feigned relaxation in eons. The knots posing as a second set of shoulder blades on my back – and the ever-deepening furrows in my brow – confirmed it. I was frighteningly tense, both in mind and body. And I knew it was true: My guitar-string disposition wasn’t doing anything for my baby desires.

Marshie told me that, in addition to the things I was doing, she’d taken up meditation. But it wasn’t the sort of deep, legs-crossed meditation that yogis teach – and take years of work to master. It was a shortcut tool for releasing stressed thoughts and taut muscles, and it involved listening to some sounds from a CD every day. “I don’t at all enjoy the sitting and clearing your mind part of meditation,” she explained. “With this it doesn’t matter. You can listen to it while you plan your menu for the week!”

But what was “it”? I definitely didn’t believe that a couple of discs I could upload to my iPod would end my plight. Besides, I didn’t want to wake in the morning to find I suddenly subscribed to the scriptures of an insidious underworld cult. Marshie said it wasn’t like that. The sounds were a mellowing combination of tolling bells and falling rain, and had behind them a brainwave technology known as Holosync. “It has to do with balancing left and right brain,” she said. “It has calmed me tremendously.”

I still didn’t buy it. The CDs had to be purchased over the Web, and cost close to $200. Still, I was intrigued. I went to the Centerpointe website, requested a free demo CD that the company was offering, and started reading about the program. I admit, I anxiously awaited that complimentary disc. I liked the idea of making my way to a happier, healthier state. And, of course, letting my headphones do the work.

I had been depressed and dragging myself out of bed every morning for months, but I was about to develop a new addiction – one that would have me waking up early with pleasure and starting each day in a puzzlingly positive state of mind.

Carole Braden is a freelance writer based in New York City. She’s currently seeking her bliss on a three-month trip zig-zagging South Africa.