Someone very dear to me once pointed out that my mind can sometimes work in non-traditional ways.
We’d be talking and I would have a thought. That thought would lead to another thought, and another and another, at which point I’d say ‘I really love candied yams’. The problem was that we’d been talking about existentialism and the search for meaning. Unfortunately my conversation partner hadn’t been privy to all of the steps in my thinking that led to ‘candied yams’ and my inordinate love of them. I’ve been told that this can be very confusing and somewhat disorienting.
‘Oh look, a chicken!’ became our shorthand for this tendency that my brain has to jump around from idea to idea and become easily distracted. I say it to myself now when I catch the old brain-a-roo going down the chicken hole.
Though I suppose chickens don’t really dig holes, they just peck at the dirt. Gregory Peck was iconic in ‘Moby Dick’. Some whales can grow to be almost as heavy as 14 school buses. Wait, what were we talking about?
My brain thinks things. A lot of the time I write those things down. Sometimes those things fit neatly into a longer essay format. Other times those things are just pieces of ideas that I think might be valuable to remember as I go through this one brief and wonderful life.
Here are a few of the things I’ve been thinking. In no particular order:
It’s Starting
It’s starting.
The feeling of panic. The feeling of being overwhelmed. Feeling like nothing I do will matter. Feeling foggy. Feeling a lack of direction.
I’ve been here before. I’ll be here again. The feeling ebbs and flows, but it never completely goes away.
Oh wait, I didn’t sleep deeply last night. That only brings on the feeling on quicker and with more fury. It certainly doesn’t help.
What do I do? ‘Nothing’ is always an option. Roll up in a ball. Lose the day. Reset and try again tomorrow. Been there, done that.
Except that doesn’t usually end well. Tends to become snake eating it’s tail. Spiraling downward. Here there be dragons.
Writing is something to do. Writing gives the voices a place to go. A place to wear themselves out, crying out into the void. “I’m no good. I’m not special. I’ll never be more than this.” Writing helps.
Another choice? Do something. Action begets more action. Quiets the mind. Less to think about when you’re doing something. Less chance for the voices to come and drown you.
That’s what I choose to do.
One Foot In Front of the Other
One foot in front of the other.
“But it’s already too late. The day is ruined. I didn’t do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. Why bother? It’s too hard. Nothing I do will make any difference.”
One foot in front of the other. One step, then the next.
Stand up. Move. Do something. Anything. Doesn’t matter what. Motion begets motion.
Before you can have momentum, you have to have that moment of action.
Momentum: from Latin, from movimentum, from movere ‘to move’.
Stand up. Move. More will be revealed.
One More Time
How many times will you pick yourself up? Again. Again. Again. The hamster wheel goes round and round. Too many times to count. So many times you want to cry. You’re broken. You’re mad. Staring at the abyss.
You fall. You get back up. You fall. You get back up.
One more time.
Keep Your Head Off of Swivel
“Keep your head off of swivel.” — Unknown character from the TV show ‘Blue Bloods’
At least that’s what I think I heard. The TV was on in the background and I wasn’t paying close attention.
I have no idea in what context they were using the phrase but there’s something about it that really clicked for me. I guess it’s one of those instances of ‘When the mind is ready for the message, the message will appear.”
“Keep your head off of swivel.” Stick to the task at hand.
“Keep your head off of swivel.” Don’t be distracted by every little thing crying out for your attention.
“Keep your head off of swivel.”
Stay focused. Stay present.
Do the thing you’ve set out to do.
Change
In order for my circumstances to change, I must change.
I must change my habits. I must change my actions. I must break down and rebuild. I must keep what works and strip away what doesn’t.
Change is hard. Change is uncomfortable.
Change is healthy. Change is inevitable.
Change is possible.
I want my circumstances to change.
I must change.
As I read through what I’ve written above it’s not nearly as all over the place as I first thought. There’s definitely a them that emerges. Maybe my brain is getting just a little bit better…
Oh look, a chicken.