Could we get some help down here PLEASE?

Today I am pondering about ways to meet God.

Before you trip over your keyboard looking to bolt out of this place, let me tell you quickly that this is not the beginning of a long philosophical discussion. In fact I have as much chance of saying something intelligent about philosophy as I have about Science. Shameful but true.

My husband once bought a book called ‘Self Unfoldment’ and urged me to use it to start my spiritual journey. I got lost within the first 100 yards of my journey and ended up tucking the book safe behind my dozen recipe books in the Kitchen. I showed it with pride to a friend the other day as the only book in my cabinet that has no finger smudges or rips or pencil marks.

I have a couple of questions that I want to ask God. How do I find Him first? If I stand on one leg and meditate, will he show himself to me? Considering the success that the sages from Indian mythology had with this method, it might be my best bet. In that case, I better make a quick stop at a local drugstore to pick up some Bengay first. You see, I get cramps in my legs if I stand too long on two legs. Imagine my problems if I stand on just one leg!

On the other hand, it might be smarter to simply text God. “OMG, SH.YS. HV FW QK QSTS 4 U” should do it. If you can’t read it as ‘Oh my God, show yourself as I have a few quick questions for you’, consider yourself a little behind current times, my friend.

Okay, okay…...before you go scratching the wall, here are my questions to the Almighty.

If the purpose of my existence on this Universe is to wash dirty dishes, do laundry, tie shoelaces and drive my kids around town:

1. What was the big idea giving me only one pair of hands?
2. Where is my superpower – the ability to beam in and out of places? (Now you see me, now you don’t)

At the risk of inviting a fierce black bolt of lightning to strike me, I will have to say this. Big flaw in your design, my Lord!

Your design specification list for a Mom should have started out with 3 pairs of hands to effectively multitask - the first pair on the shoulders {as in the existing design} to wash dishes, the second pair on the waist to fold and iron clothes and the third pair on the ankles to help tie shoe laces for kids. Considering the fact that we also cook, shop, network and volunteer to sell popcorn for the PTA, we could ideally use a couple more pairs of hands but hey, I will settle for 3 if you can manage it.

When we were watching Star Trek the other day and Jim and Spock pressed a button on their shoulders and said ‘Beam me out Scotty’, I almost jumped out of my skin with excitement. Here is the solution to one of my problems. Here is how I can avoid entailing my estate to the County. Here is how I can pick up both my kids at 5.00 pm sharp from their swimming and tennis lessons respectively from the opposite ends of town without accumulating a dozen speeding tickets in the process. In the next few days I risked alienating my children by pressing an imaginary button on my shoulder often and declaring ‘Beam me out God’. Guess you weren’t listening.

As a time-starved Mom who is forever on the verge of a breakdown trying to be at 2 places at the same time (thereby breaking all known traffic laws of the State), I probably speak for all moms when I say ‘I WANT THAT’.

If you are listening up there, could we get some help down here PLEASE? Hello…..?

-Meena Sankaran

A hairy solution

I was waiting at a hair salon the other day when conversation broke around me. Two gentlemen began what was, at first, a friendly discussion on current political news. The conversation then gradually progressed to a heated debate on the pros and cons of Capital punishment. Oops, I thought. Here I go again caught in the middle of yet another conversation that was completely beyond the scope of my ‘world’.

Sandwiched between the two men, I did what I had practiced to do in such situations. I put on a face that dripped with intelligence and belied my ignorance on such issues. It is actually not that hard. You can try this too. Bring your eyebrows together very gently to create a slight furrow just above your nose. This tells an onlooker that you are deep in thoughts. Now tuck both lips inside your mouth to indicate that you are deliberately restraining yourself from jumping into the conversation and nod your head this way and that way every few minutes in agreement or disagreement. Hah, here is an absolute must that is sure to help you fit in. Be sure that you massage the back of your neck and rotate your shoulders often in a show to relieve some of the non-existent stress. People can’t help but admire such intelligent looks, such restraint and passive participation. If nothing, it sure beats sitting clueless among strangers with eyes rolled upwards in a prayer to be let out of a scene from what resembles a historical wartime drama.

As I was playing back the scene in my mind on the way back home, I suddenly realized that I had missed a golden opportunity to contribute positively to a discussion. For, I happen to have a solution to the controversial social debate on death penalty. I happen to know a ruthless form of punishment that could easily replace death penalty and have heartless criminals wet their beds in fear. I, an average housewife from the suburbs of Virginia, happen to know an alternative method of justice to the death penalty that will have murderers begging for the electric chair and the victims’ families applauding the simplicity of the solution. I am talking about some serious pain here. I am talking about a torture that is more heinous than any criminal act that warrants such a justice.

If you haven’t tuned in yet, I am talking about an inhuman act called waxing. I will bet you my right ear that any woman or girl who has ever waxed a leg at least once in her life will agree with me that there is no torture/punishment worse than that. (He he he, I am counting on the fact that my right ear is of no use to anyone…just in case the bet goes awry and I need to pay up).

You got a murderer or a rapist? Bring him on and sit him up on a chair. Stir up the hot wax and pour it on his legs, arms and back. Ignore the blood-curdling screams and spread the wax. Press a strip of muslin cloth on the wax and rip it off his skin. If this doesn’t qualify to top capital punishment, I don’t know what does. With every yank, watch the evil drain out of a man as the pain ripples through him. With every yank, discourage another one that is planning to step on the wrong side of the law. Why spend thousands of taxpayers’ money on implementing capital punishment when you can mete out something equally terrible for just over $10.00? If the Supreme Court embraces my suggestion and replaces death penalty with waxing, the Federal treasury is sure to heave a sigh of relief.

I have only one request to make of any man who thinks women are weak and powerless. Try getting your legs waxed just once before you call a woman weak. Please!

-Meena Sankaran

Are you constipated?

After years of denial, I woke up one day not too long ago and reluctantly admitted to myself that I was constipated.

Wow….hold your horses! Tear off that prescription for laxatives, my friends. My intestines are in perfect harmony, thank you very much. I am talking about emotional constipation, a rarely talked about illness in people that when left untreated can cause irreparable damage.

If you are unsure about what I am talking about, here is how you can recognize the symptoms. You are emotionally constipated if:

• Hugs and kisses come as natural to you as they did to Adolf Hitler.
• You consider breaking down and crying in front of someone to be the worst cardinal sin ever.
• Admitting an error on your part costs so much more to you than a gram of gold (which is saying a lot considering the gold price in today’s market).
• After yelling at your kids for something you know to be totally trivial and facing the aftermath of sobs, pouts and accusing glances, you still find yourself unable to give a hug and soothe away the hurt.
• When your husband comes home brimming with excitement about a new promotion at work, all you can say is ‘nice’ and pat him once on the hand in an awkward show of appreciation before turning back to the stove to continue stirring the pot of water.
• Even when your heart is filled with love for …………… (fill up this space), the phrase ‘I love you’ gets stuck somewhere to the south of your throat and refuses to be spit out.

If you recognize any of the symptoms above, do not despair. All is not lost yet. When I first diagnosed myself to being afflicted with this illness, it stole my breath away. Me? Emotionally constipated? Afraid to be emotionally expressive? How could that be? How could one who prided herself to be friendly be such a coward? After a lot of soul-searching, I figured out something very curious. The closer I feel to a person, the more constipated I become. Go figure! Anyway, the good news is 'emotional constipation' is fully curable though it takes a bit of ingenuity in shuffling around your genes that dictate your behavior and relearn certain reflexive responses.

For example, if you think you may be afflicted with the same illness, the next time your child comes up to you and declares “Guess what mom/dad! I got an ‘A’ in my Vocabulary quiz today” and looks expectantly at you, resist the urge to give a stoic pat on the head accompanied by ‘good good’ before walking away to attend to the million mundane chores that always seem to await you. Difficult as it may be, stretch your lips wide in a smile, give a squishy hug and say ‘I am proud of you’. And watch utter joy wash over the little face like you have never seen before. That is just one example of 'relearning a reflexive response'.

If you are trying to quit before you even started telling yourself 'I can't change my ways. It is too hard', know that there is another soul on the planet who is trying to do the same and slowly getting the hang of it. Bad habits are there just begging to be broken. As one who is genuinely attempting to recover from this illness, take my advice and practice these phrases at home every day.

I love you.

I miss you.

I am proud of you.

I am afraid of ............

They will come in handy and go a long way to help speed up your recovery. Hope you feel better soon.