The Anxious Tortoise (or, a Completely Random Review of the Muse Meditation Headband)

Not quite me.

I am stressed. That’s nothing terribly new, as I’ve been an anxious person for as long as I can remember. I worry. I obsess. I lie awake at night running through lists of people I’ve accidentally hurt and stupid things I said out loud (although this takes hours and hours, it doesn’t quite have the same hypnotic flow as counting sheep). And when I’m going through a stressful time in life, well… HOLY CRAP. No one can worry and cry and rustle up an impressive panic attack like I can. Lately, my hair has actually been falling out in clumps and I finally decided fine, ok, I’ll see some doctors.  

My doctor ran tests, all of which came back negative. My gynecologist ran tests, again negative. Oh, and good news, I’m not going through early menopause so #winning. My dermatologist saw nothing permanent. “It should grow back,” she said, and proceeded to educate me on how stress-induced hair loss happens several months after a period of intense anxiety and clears up after a few months.

But what if the stress doesn’t stop? What if life is a series of legitimately anxiety-inducing events? Are my golden tresses, my favorite feature, going going gone for good?

Luckily, my dermatologist isn’t just the best in the area, she’s a friend. At the panicked look in my eyes she added, “Well, you can try Rogaine, that really does work. But you should probably figure out how to manage your stress… For a lot of reasons.”

Dammit. I really wanted a quick fix. Now I’m stuck applying topical foam every night for the foreseeable future and trying to calm the crap in my head. Awesome.

I used to manage my stress quite well with yoga, but a hip injury a few years ago left 90% of poses impossible without crazy-elaborate modifications. Now, yoga is stressful, as I swear and rail at my goddamn body that used to swoop into flying pigeon with graceful ease but now can’t creak into warrior one. I run, but that’s really just a form of daily self-flagellation—not exactly calming. But maybe, I thought, I should make the lateral move from yoga to meditation, something I’ve dipped my toes into here and there but never really adopted on a regular basis because man, meditation is hard. My brain swings back and forth like a demented pendulum, careening in sixteen different directions while I grit my teeth and repeat my mantra.

I sat down on my cushion daily for a week. Soon I started skipping a few days here and there. Then I shortened my time. And finally, predictably, I just stopped all together. I just couldn’t get into that peaceful state, and left each session more frustrated than when I began. As a final attempt to master meditation, I did what I do best: research.

Take My Money, Please!

All that research didn’t lead to any dramatic revelations. That’s not surprising, since I took a rather in-depth class years ago and am actually certified to teach meditation. I just suck at it. But what that research did do was flag me for several retargeting ads—including one for Muse. Every social media platform I used and browser I opened suddenly had an ad for Muse, all starring folks going from stressed to blissed. Science + mysticism? Count me in! I excitedly paid $249 of my hard-earned cash (the second I did, it went on sale because OF COURSE IT DID) and eagerly awaited its delivery. A few days later, I was back on my cushion with the headband on and app opened, ready to learn how my brain works and hoping it wouldn’t crash. The app, not my brain. Although…

How It Works

The Muse 2 headband works by sensing your brainwaves and interpreting them as weather sounds. When you’re calm and relaxed, you hear the merest hint of a breeze and birds quietly chirping. Monkey mind getting wacky? So is the weather/soundscape. The included soundscapes are Beach, Rainforest, Desert, City Park, and Ambient Music.

The headband is fairly easy to put on, though it took a few tries to get all the sensors reading properly. Note: this part is NOT good for one’s stress levels. Hearing “Muse is having trouble reading. Please adjust the headband. Recalibrating” on repeat is fairly annoying. It’s also weirdly difficult to turn on. I don’t know what the trick is… I’ve tried pressing and quickly releasing the power button, holding it down, and every combination in between. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t—seemingly without rhyme or reason. Oh and I felt a little like Geordi LaForge, especially when my husband burst into my office to ask me something that clearly could have waited and said, “what the hell is going on here?” through way too much laughter. I now lock my door.

Headband in position, the user chooses mind, heart, body, breath, guided, or timed meditation. For every type, you enter the time you’d like to meditate and settle in while it calibrates. Each category has a handful of exercises, which are basically one minute of instruction followed by the desired number of meditation minutes.

The Bottom Line

The experience is… fine, I guess. It’s hard to say how accurate the weather sounds are, but it feels like there’s about a one-second delay between the moment and the feedback. That might not sound like much, but I’m a perfectionist and found myself frustrated when I didn’t get instant gratification for my calm moments, which resulted in more thunderstorms. You earn Muse points for every second you’re calm (but no, you’re not graded and there are no prizes so pfffffft. Why can’t points unlock new soundscapes or exercises?). Still, it’s nice to see an actual report at the end that outlines exactly what state you were in at every moment. It’s encouraged my dysfunctional self-competitive streak, so I’ve keep going with it (“Yeah, I’m totally going to be more relaxed next time, I’m gonna be the most relaxed I’ve ever BEEN and I’ll shatter that record with a new personal best, boo-yah!”). It also helps that Muse sends little passive aggressive notifications when you don’t meditate, like “You haven’t Mused in two days. (Loser.)” Ok, they don’t actually call you a loser, but it feels like when someone “helpfully” reminds you that you’ve already had two slices of cake and should probably start evaluating your life choices.

So, would I buy the Muse 2 again?

Actually, yes.

It’s not perfect, I look ridiculous while using it, and it can be frustrating. Also, you can’t use it with your own guided meditations, which I really miss. Years ago I bought the whole library at Meditainment.com (which is now available for free, again because OF COURSE IT IS) and I love them. They’re like soothing mini-vacations and pure escapism, and I’d love to see what they do to my brain waves. But alas, external audio won’t work. When I emailed Muse, they suggested turning the audio down on the Muse app and listening to the meditation on another device, which seems like far too much work for me.

But still, I’d buy it again. Spending that much on something makes me more accountable—I figure out my cost-per-use and challenge myself to make it lower. Yes, I really am that dorky. Math is fun! $249 is a decent enough investment that I’m too cheap to just throw away—I’ve now Mused 30 times, so that’s about $8.30 per meditation. I’m kind of hoping I’ll get to the point where I won’t be mentally calculating the cost of each meditation. Then I’ll know it’s working.

If nothing else, it’s gotten me meditating regularly again. The jury is still out on whether it’s helping my stress levels (and hair loss), but I know that’s a marathon, not a sprint. Here’s to being a determined, relaxed tortoise!