I love going to the dentist.
Okay maybe love is a little strong, I'm not like this guy. But I do enjoy the experience and use the opportunity to enter a deep meditative trance.
Bill Murray in Little Shop of Horrors - if you are too young to know what I am talking about, to you I say - Youth is no excuse! Do yourself a favor and watch this movie, it is a classic.
My dental hygienist's name is Natasha. Natasha has an easy smile and sings along with the music for a few bars while she is readying the room. She has a beautiful singing voice.
I do not know the pop song that is playing. I don't listen to the radio or watch television. The easy listening current pop music is an alien soundscape to me. The first step in the journey outside my head begins with my ears.
I hand my glasses to Natasha while I am settling in to the dentist's chair. The second step outside of my head begins with my eyes.
The world that I see now is not the world that I usually see. A gentle blurriness has invaded, a hesitation, an uncertainty around the edges.
As the chair reclines I focus my breath and attention on my spine, relaxing deeper with each breath, allowing the relaxation to flow down through my spine and into my hips. I am breathing myself deep into the chair.
I am working my breath out to my fingers and toes. Fingers slightly spread and relaxed on the arm rest. Toes straight out relaxed.
I am ready.
The ultrasonic scaler has a high whine that lowers into an angry snarl when Natasha presses it harder onto the surface of my incisors. This becomes the center of the universe. I have to extend my awareness back out, finding my fingers have curled up slightly. The receptionists in the lobby are laughing together. A love song is playing. Electric bursts of sensation, not quite pain, not pleasant, as Natasha works her way around my mouth.
Turn towards me, Natasha says.
I am now in a deep trance. I am aware of everything that is happening to me. I am my body and I am outside of my body. Breathing in and out slowly and deeply. Natasha is using a dental hook, poking it between my teeth and pulling up, metal scraping on enamel. The stainless steel point tugs briefly at a rough patch, returning again to address the same area before moving on.
My breathing has slowed. My heart has slowed. I am very relaxed. I enjoy going to the dentist.
Dentist > Comcast