Dr LeCrone
03-30-2006, 09:24 AM
Finding a relaxing activity – one that doesn’t involve one’s normal vocational responsibilities – is a chief ingredient in reducing stress and promoting mental health.
I find it relaxing to go the country, observe nature, exercise and escape some of the hassles of city life. Recently my wife, daughter and I spent several enjoyable hours in such an environment. While my wife read a book, my daughter and I hunted for frogs and turtles as we watched our corks float lazily (and, unfortunately, undisturbed) in a small pond while we soaked up the sights and sounds of a beautiful afternoon.
Arriving back in Waco in the evening we decided to pick up some hamburgers at a local fast-food establishment. As we waited at the stop light to cross the street and enter the drive through lane several thoughts crossed my mind.
• My daughter had commented that she was ravenously hungry.
• I was glad that a line of cars was not ahead of us so her needs would soon be met. (Also, I generally don’t like to wait in lines.)
But the situation soon changed as several parties of people quickly chose the same eating establishment. Just ahead of the LeCrone family in a large van, someone was submitting orders aplenty – enough for a whole softball or soccer team, it seemed. Trying to maintain the relaxed, unhurried posture I had assumed for the last few hours in the country, I turned on the radio and started a conversation with my wife.
But the line of cars moved to slowly. My daughter’s hunger was not satisfied. Her approaching bedtime and her fatigue from the country outing combined to make the situation frustrating for her. When at last it was our turn to order, I rolled down the window, but found myself mouthing inaudible orders. A young man was loudly blowing a horn from the back of a Suburban. A driver in a car to the rear of ours had his radio at maximum volume.
The noise level produced a definite roar for me, a middle-aged man was an established history of hearing loss. The attendant’s “may I take your order please” sounded like the vague ramblings of a foreign tongue muttered in the midst of a rock concert accompanied by a sole trumpeter playing random notes at 100 decibels. Can you visualize this? I had a problem to solve.
• My car door was too close to the speaker to open the door so I began to lean farther and farther out the window. The problem worsened as my prize cowboy hat fell off my head and rolled under the wheels of the car. Drivers of several cars began to honk their horns with obvious impatience.
• My wife got out of our car to retrieve my hat.
• My automobile engine died.
• Feelings of not being in control escalated.
• Non-verbal communication attempts with the attendant peering at me through the window took the form of charades.
Before I could explore other alternatives:
• The car started.
• My wife retrieved my hat.
• We moved ahead to pick up our order. I still wanted to explain the situation to the attendant who handed us the food, but her smiling face and the smiles on the other watching faces seemed to indicate a forgiving, although highly amused, understanding and acceptance of this brief exercise in problem solving.
I decided not to complicate matters any further. As far as I was concerned, the problem was solved. I just returned their big smile and drove away with my hard-earned meal.
By the time I reached my home I had somewhat recaptured my feelings of relaxation and pleasure, but I made a mental note on future problem solving.
The next trip to the country, we will consider packing a picnic.
Harold H. LeCrone, Jr., Ph.D. Copyright 1987
I find it relaxing to go the country, observe nature, exercise and escape some of the hassles of city life. Recently my wife, daughter and I spent several enjoyable hours in such an environment. While my wife read a book, my daughter and I hunted for frogs and turtles as we watched our corks float lazily (and, unfortunately, undisturbed) in a small pond while we soaked up the sights and sounds of a beautiful afternoon.
Arriving back in Waco in the evening we decided to pick up some hamburgers at a local fast-food establishment. As we waited at the stop light to cross the street and enter the drive through lane several thoughts crossed my mind.
• My daughter had commented that she was ravenously hungry.
• I was glad that a line of cars was not ahead of us so her needs would soon be met. (Also, I generally don’t like to wait in lines.)
But the situation soon changed as several parties of people quickly chose the same eating establishment. Just ahead of the LeCrone family in a large van, someone was submitting orders aplenty – enough for a whole softball or soccer team, it seemed. Trying to maintain the relaxed, unhurried posture I had assumed for the last few hours in the country, I turned on the radio and started a conversation with my wife.
But the line of cars moved to slowly. My daughter’s hunger was not satisfied. Her approaching bedtime and her fatigue from the country outing combined to make the situation frustrating for her. When at last it was our turn to order, I rolled down the window, but found myself mouthing inaudible orders. A young man was loudly blowing a horn from the back of a Suburban. A driver in a car to the rear of ours had his radio at maximum volume.
The noise level produced a definite roar for me, a middle-aged man was an established history of hearing loss. The attendant’s “may I take your order please” sounded like the vague ramblings of a foreign tongue muttered in the midst of a rock concert accompanied by a sole trumpeter playing random notes at 100 decibels. Can you visualize this? I had a problem to solve.
• My car door was too close to the speaker to open the door so I began to lean farther and farther out the window. The problem worsened as my prize cowboy hat fell off my head and rolled under the wheels of the car. Drivers of several cars began to honk their horns with obvious impatience.
• My wife got out of our car to retrieve my hat.
• My automobile engine died.
• Feelings of not being in control escalated.
• Non-verbal communication attempts with the attendant peering at me through the window took the form of charades.
Before I could explore other alternatives:
• The car started.
• My wife retrieved my hat.
• We moved ahead to pick up our order. I still wanted to explain the situation to the attendant who handed us the food, but her smiling face and the smiles on the other watching faces seemed to indicate a forgiving, although highly amused, understanding and acceptance of this brief exercise in problem solving.
I decided not to complicate matters any further. As far as I was concerned, the problem was solved. I just returned their big smile and drove away with my hard-earned meal.
By the time I reached my home I had somewhat recaptured my feelings of relaxation and pleasure, but I made a mental note on future problem solving.
The next trip to the country, we will consider packing a picnic.
Harold H. LeCrone, Jr., Ph.D. Copyright 1987