Can you do nothing? That's right, NOTHING. Can you sit in utter calm for 15 straight minutes and do absolutely nothing and contemplate nothing and just let time pass without hearing the clock tick?

I know, these are strange questions, especially when there's so much that needs to get done. Let's set them aside for a moment so I can tell you about Loretta.

Several years ago, I was standing in line waiting to board an airplane. A man in front of me turned around, looked straight in my eyes, paused for about 10 seconds, then asked: "Did you tell Loretta?"

"Loretta?" I said. I knew several Lauras, two Lynnettes, and one Lorna. But I couldn't recall any Lorettas.

The man stared at me for an endless minute. I looked back uncomfortably, searching my memory for a long lost Loretta.  Then he asked another question: "Does she have the file?"

What Loretta? What file? "I have no idea," I replied, completely befuddled.

He turned away. "Okay, I just wanted to make sure," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow at the office." Then he lifted his hand and pulled a tiny earpiece from his ear -- making me my own private laughingstock. All along, he had been talking on his cell phone with a buddy back at work.

I've fallen into the Loretta trap several times since then, engaging in peculiar one-way conversations with cell-connected strangers. It's more amusing than embarrassing, but more than anything, it's revealing.

We've become walking ports, stuffed to the eardrums with cell phones, iPods, and other inputs. We're checking e-mail, surfing the Web, downloading documents, and pounding our keyboards to finish those deadline-driven projects. We're loading up on coffee, meeting with colleagues, multi-tasking, and staying late. We're in constant motion,  leaning forward, living the "bias for action" that's prized in so many organizations.

We're great at doing things -- and awful at doing nothing.

Sleep should force us to slow down, but when people go to bed, their mental hard drives often keep whirring. That's one reason why prescriptions for sleeping pills have climbed nearly 60% since 2000, according to researchers at IMS Health. Weekends should ease stress, but the relief is often temporary. More people suffer heart attacks on Monday mornings than at any other time of the week.

This miserable state of affairs came to mind a year ago, when a friend offered to teach me the basics of meditation. I resisted at first, in part because it was so different from my usual way of doing things, and because it seemed so passive and unproductive. It didn't help when she told me to sit cross-legged on a cushion -- something I hadn't done since sixth grade. "Keep your spine well-aligned," she said. "When you sit up straight, your lungs fully expand and your body gets more oxygen."

I started thinking about all the other, more important things I could be doing. Then she began to explain how meditation can help us clear the mind. By focusing on nothing but the rhythmic inhale and exhale of our own breathing, we can achieve some thing that's virtually unattainable in today's busy word: a state of complete calm.

"Our thoughts are like wild horses constantly on the move," she said. I silently agreed, wishing I could saddle up and gallop out of the room.

As you begin to meditate, she continued, these wild horses will keep jumping around. You'll think about the overdue library books, the squeaky brakes on the car, the upcoming dental appointment, the big deadline for a work-related project, the sound of the fan in the room, the squawking bird outside, and on and on. The challenge is to avoid these thoughts -- basically, to think about nothing.

What if the wild horses won't go away? I asked.

"When you have a thought," she explained, "quickly give it a one word label. In your mind, say 'thinking' -- then let it go."

All this talk about wild horses made me more than a little skeptical, but I decided to give it a try. I straightened my posture, then I began to listen to the inhale and exhale of my breathing. Silence filled the room, and for 30 seconds, I could feel a newfound sense of relaxation. It's working, I thought.

And then it happened. My mind turned into an open field of frantic mustangs. The inner dialogue went something like this:

   Inner voice #1: This is ridiculous.

   Inner voice #2: Shut up and give it a chance.

   Inner voice #3: Thinking! Thinking!

   Inner voice #4: Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale...

   Inner voice #1: This room smells like a burrito. I'm so hungry.  I'd give anything for a burrito right now.

   Inner voice #3: Thinking!

   Inner voice #1: What's with this cross-legged sitting position?  Why not sit in a chair?

   Inner voice #3: He has a point. Wait -- that's thinking!

As new thoughts popped into my head, I dutifully applied the label -- thinking! -- and let them go. I tried to stay focused on my breathing. Gradually, the mental mustangs began to settle down, just like my friend had predicted. After 20 minutes I could feel a sense of calm, and by 30 minutes, the calm turned into a feeling of renewal. I had achieved...nothing. And it felt great.

After that first experience, I learned more about meditation.  (A great first book is "Wherever You Go, There You Are," by Jon Kabat-Zinn.) I experimented with five-minute segments, 10 minutes, and so on. I developed my own techniques and favorite approach. In the process, I came to appreciate the long-term benefits: less mental clutter, reduced stress, a greater ability to sift top priorities from the small stuff, a clearer head when making decisions, more confidence.

Why don't you see for yourself? Turn off the cell phone, set aside your work, and sit still for 15 minutes. Put all your focus on the rhythm of your breathing. Do nothing else. As thoughts emerged, wrap them in the "thinking" label and immediately let them go. Shut down all the inputs and simply be.

If you're a very busy person, this might sound like a big waste of time. If you're a born cynic, you might be rolling your eyes. If you gain comfort from cell phones, iPods, and other external connections, you might worry that you'll miss something. I understand all these objections because I had them myself. Push them back for just 15 minutes. If you can't handle a full 15, try it for 10. See what happens.

You don't need to sit cross-legged. You don't need special skills.You don't need a particular place.

Heck, you can even do this while waiting to board an airplane. It's a great way to fend off those plugged-in people who are asking about Loretta.

Copyright 2006 Tom Terez. All rights reserved.