These clichéd “castles in the air” or dreamier-than-dreamland thoughts seemed to keep away worries and anxieties. It was like being in a semi-sleep state. And what more does one need than that undefinable happiness? These flights of fancy surely provided it. So why not indulge in these mind-freeing and heart-filling exercises? Frequently, I find myself slipping into this nothingness filled with joyous adventures, losing myself entirely. Songs are no longer heard, sounds lose their decibels, light becomes dark, and even the most aromatic dish fails to reach my nostrils. Skin becomes thick, numb to sensation. Isn’t this also a meditative state?

Audiobooks have now become my only source of reading. Most of the time, my iPad is switched on and playing a story. Quite often, a few minutes into listening, my mind goes blank and embarks on its own journey. A sudden wake-up—how has the story progressed? Rewind, go back, listen again. Sometimes, as the story keeps playing, my mind wanders elsewhere, and suddenly, the welcome guest of sleep takes over. Oh, what a pleasure!

This habit has also helped me with visualization. I can now switch off and visualize my body relaxing as tense moments pass by. Surgeries, for instance, have always created terror in me. With this mental tool, I travel second by second as the surgery proceeds, and—oh boy—I have no tension. During my recent heart attack, I used this visualization technique. Was it the medication or the mental preparation that made a normally uncommunicative person like me so chatty? I hardly noticed when the catheter was inserted or the stent was placed, and then suddenly, the doctor says, “The procedure is over.” Was it a dream? Reality? Was it really happening to me?

It helped during the radiation therapy too, although only after I was on the table. Hmm, I need to refine my visualization for that. But this technique doesn’t just stop at medical procedures—I use it for air travel, hikes, navigation, and even doctor consultations.

I’ve combined visualization and daydreaming into one. I see similarities between the two. Maybe I’m completely off the mark, but if it helps, why not?

There is, of course, a bit of exaggeration in what I write here, but it’s not entirely untrue. The fact is, I’ve found it relaxing. So, on and off, I keep hovering—and I’m trying to perfect the art.

Continued in 158. Now And Then