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18.3.09

The Stress Test.

I was taking a leisurely stroll along the banks of the Yarra River with my parents when one of the arrays of street show booths caught my eye. They were selling some psychic self improvement books on how to manage stress through positive thinking, or something along those lines. I rolled my eyes; I didn’t even glance at the title. What caught my eye was the free stress test that they were offering, and the queer machine that was precariously placed on the table. ‘How does THAT work? Does that REALLY work?’ I thought to myself. I had to find out.
I approached the booth and the kind lady greeted me with a smile, offering me to sit. I’m not sure if I was her usual customer, but I opened the conversation questioning her how the machine worked, not wanting to let her start her psychic claims on me, not just yet. She explained to me that I was to hold the two metal probes gently in my hands, and the battery-operated machine would send a small current through me. If there were any bad thoughts as evidence of stress, the current would get cut off and the meter would show. ‘Wouldn’t the current get cut off by good thoughts too?’ I asked. Apparently not. Good thoughts were fine and did not affect the natural circulation of things.
I decided to take matters into my own hands and conduct an experiment of my own while I was in the hot seat.
She adjusted the meter to a set point to nullify the base current that was passing through me.
‘First up, think of a stressful situation.’
The needle, which had settled quite contentedly, started moving to the right.
‘Okay see, that’s stress. What were you thinking of?’
I told her that I had thought of certain circumstances I had been in, and certain friends around me. I knew these caused me stress. Interpersonal relations mean much to me. The more I held a certain friend dear, the greater the ability and capacity for that someone to invoke turmoil in me. She adjusted the needle again.
‘Now, let’s test various aspects of your life. Think of your health.’
The needle stayed put. I was well and healthy and wasn’t stressing about my health, of course.
‘Think about your family.’
Again, the needle did not waver.
‘Think about relationships.’
This time, the needle went berserk. It swung straight to the far right, dodging the light of day.
‘Now!’ she boomed, almost triumphant, as if she’d caught me on the sly. ‘What was it you were thinking there? That was definitely stress.’
I laughed it off and complained I wished I knew, probably seeming avoidant to her. The truth was I really wished I knew. I had made up my mind right from the start that I would not think of bad thoughts or the specific events that had caused them, after that first trial, so I had no idea which reprived stashed memory was causing the needle’s reaction.
‘Subconscious thought does it too, you know,’ she added, as if having read my mind. ‘Let’s move on nonetheless. You’re a student, yeah? Now think of your studies.’
The needle was tame again this time.
‘Okay, that’s about it. Looks like relationships are your stress.’
‘Wait a minute,’ I interrupted. ‘Could we try that relationship one again then? I’m just really curious. This thing seems to work.’ On retrospect, I hope I didn’t sound too doubtful or condescending.
‘Sure, why not.’ She set the needle again. ‘Okay, think about relationships.’
This time, I didn’t think of anything. As in I literally made my mind blank out, if that was humanly possible. I tried to think of what to cook for my next meal. And yet, the needle swung full-right.
‘Ahhh, that’s interesting,’ I commented. I thanked her for her time and left the booth.
**


I would usually not subject myself to such proclaimed psychic powers, but on that fateful day, I was somehow keen to trial one of my many thought experiments. To tell the truth, I had already known what the needle would tell me. I’ve never been a guru on relationships and I’ve always felt they would be my demise. It is in this arena where I feel like I’m a small girl again, unable to fathom the nuances of the playing field out there. A relationship is the one thing that is both crave-worthy and fearsome all at the same time. We all want the highs, not the complications. We all long for love, care and companionship. We want to share our inner thoughts, yet dread we may not be accepted. We want to let someone in, eventually, but are afraid others might hurt us. We want to be as one with someone else, but are afraid we might lose ourselves. It seems a daunting task to embrace this all, especially when we’ve been rejected, hurt and disillusioned before. I’ve learnt much of the resilience of the human spirit, but today I’ve learnt one more thing. This is vulnerable territory. This is toying with uncertainty. This is placing incredible trust on a fellow imperfect human being. No one should be cast a reprimanding look for being stressed, or subconsciously stressed, about relationships, simply because of what we dare subject ourselves to.
Stressful? Hell, yeah.

i fluttered by;
8:36 AM
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FOREWORD

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Xin Yi
5/10/1986
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