|This is what I need when attempting to navigate my mind...|
“All action is born of thought.” Author unknown
Okay, so I just checked my blog to see when I last posted, and it’s been just over a week, again. It doesn’t seem that long, but then I have no sense of time, so how would I be able to tell? This is why I now have a calendar notification set to alert me once a week: so I get the question, “When was the last time I wrote my blog?” popping up every Friday as a reminder. I need something to prod me, given that my initial, over-enthusiastic posting has rather drastically waned to the more familiar dribble. Ho hum.
This is not to say that I haven’t actually been writing this last week - or trying to. I have started five separate pieces (they’re all sitting there, in various states of fruition, at the bottom of my screen - waiting…)
But, unfortunately (as I mentioned last week), my attention has been divided between them and the Olympics - and when something like that happens then you can almost kiss goodbye to the writing; or, at least, to my being able to stick with one thing, and see it through to completion.
My brain cannot cope with two things or more at once demanding my focus, and it will always choose the most stimulating, but least taxing - the one that gives instant, easier stimulation and gratification. Writing does stimulate my brain, once I get going, and give myself over to it; but it requires no distractions, otherwise it just ends up as a sporadic, rambling mess, which needs a whole load of editing (if I even manage to complete it).
It can also seem like too much effort when directly matched against the immediacy of the internet - one click of a button and I can be zoned out within seconds. This is why I bang on so much about my problem with the internet - it’s a quick-fix to me, which is not good. It certainly isn’t any good for my creativity and productivity.
So, kind of moving on…
|... and this is what I imagine my mind looks like. Scary. No wonder I get lost.|
… to the quote at the top of the page. Whilst I agree wholeheartedly with this saying, I also think there should be a companion to it which goes, “All inaction is born of too much thought.” This would perfectly embody my problem with thinking.
I think too much. I can think myself into, then out of, a course of action within seconds. And then back in, and out, in and out, on and bloody on, ad nauseum… I tire myself out with my thinking, which is why it’s never a good idea for me to give too much thought to what I’m going to do (or to anything at all, really, ‘cos by the time I’ve finished I’ll be too knackered to do much of anything).
This is partly why I don’t do plans - ‘cos I think myself into and out of them, changing my mind about them every sixty seconds, redesigning them, changing the parameters, worrying about them, blah blah blah, and basically living in the future with the plan, and missing out on the moment: ’cos I am not one of those people who are able to make a plan, and then get on with what’s in front of them in the day.
It’s like giving my mind the opportunity to talk my way out of it in advance; much better to catch it unaware by simply living in the day, trying to bypass the receptacle of noise that is my mind, and tune into my higher Self (God - who exists only in this moment, ‘cos this moment is all moments rolled into one - deep, I know) for direction on what to do now.
Easier said than done. But I keep trying. Plus, it is the essence of yoga (and I am, supposedly, a yogi). Note to self: this might explain why I’m taking so long to reach ananda (the state of bliss that comes with being one with the Divine).
Interestingly, the time when thinking before acting would come in useful is the time when I don’t do it - or, at least, not conscious, considered thought. I’m talking about just before I leap onto the internet with gay abandon, which I do with the vague idea that it’ll be alright this time. And it never is. *heavy sigh*
So, once again, as with everything else in life (it seems), it all comes down to balance: too much thinking, and I turn into a catatonic potato; too little, and I turn into a fried potato (from jumping into the frying pan without looking where I leap). And I don’t do balance. I do erratic swings and roundabouts. I guess I’ll have to get used to being dizzy, then. You’d think I’d have grown accustomed to it by now, I’ve been doing it so long.
Right, I’m off. Hey, look at that, though. I managed to focus, and get this written all in a few hours, on the same day. And I didn’t give it much thought beforehand: just had the title and a vague idea this morning, and off we went. Yep, thinking is definitely overrated, in my opinion. Just wish I could get my mind to agree.
I wish you peace and blissful union in the moment you’re in.