I spend a lot of time in my head. That sounds fairly obvious; I mean, who isn’t in their own heads? (I will pause here so you can fill in the blank for that question - I’m sure everyone can think of one person who just doesn’t seem like s/he EVER spends time in thought.) I am constantly thinking, analyzing, pondering, wondering... It doesn’t matter if I am with others, either; though, engaging with other people does manage to turn down the volume on the inner monologue that sometimes screams at me late at night. I just cannot seem to get out of my head.
There are times when my thoughts are very focused, like when I am generating lists of things that need to be done for a particular lesson, in order to pack for vacation, or the preparation for a social gathering. When I have something on which to focus the raw energy of my thoughts, it’s downright scary what I can accomplish in a short amount of time. For example, in preparing for my recent vacation, I procrastinated getting started despite the ticker tape of things I knew I needed to do. Lo and behold, two days before I was to leave, I wrote the list and got my butt in gear. In two days, I managed to cook for the wonderful people who volunteered to pup-sit, cook for the trip, do laundry, clean the house, mow the yard, and pack my clothes and car. Not a ton of stuff, but considering I still had to run practice, managed to play tennis, and have lunch with some pretty awesome ladies during that 48-hour time period, I am relatively proud that I got everything done.
Now, when there is no focus for my thoughts, well, I imagine if someone were to be able to hear my inner monologue, s/he might believe me to be the poster child for Ritalin. Laying down to sleep, working in the yard, driving longer than ten minutes, sitting on the beach watching the sun rise... the thoughts are like pinballs, traveling in one direction only to bounce wildly in a completely different and often unanticipated direction. This morning, for instance, as I sat and watched the sun rise, my brain covered the following gamut: what I need to do to get fit, what I need to plan for an upcoming conference, how to get my mom and aunts to start talking like rational human beings, how to let go of some old resentments, what I need to do to get ready for school, what I need to do to prepare for my season, what God’s plan is for me, how much I miss playing volleyball, how much I hope my nieces will experience all the good in this world, if I’m ever going to meet someone, how annoying the sand fleas were that nipped at my ankles, and what I wanted to read next. Two hours, my inner monologue at mach-5. The nap I took after that was delightful.
Sometimes, I wish I had a mute button. (Go ahead, say it. Some of you wish that, too.) I wish there were a way to mute the internal narrative, or at least a way to turn the volume way down. It’s not so much that I mind reflection or introspection or rumination. I think it is important to be able to do those things honestly in order to grow. The problem with spending so much time in my head is two-fold: 1. I’m sick of myself. You know how it gets when you go on vacation with someone, and it rains so you are stuck in the hotel or condo together for days at a time? It gets so annoying that even the way they breathe makes you want to stab a pen in both eyes... yeah, that’s how I feel about my brain right now. And 2. The constant analysis is creating a ridiculous amount of negative self-talk. The ever-lasting, ipod shuffle-and-loop playlist of my brain seems only to focus on my flaws and failures. This delightful by-product, in turn, increases #1 which then exacerbates the negativity. To be cliche, it is a vicious cycle.
I think most people would advise me to simply find a focus to keep that energy harnessed. If I were talking to someone else who expressed the same things, I would tell her or him to do just that. Why in the world, then, is it so unbelievably difficult to do that? Reading helps, but I may spend my retirement fund on books if that is going to be my only escape. Pinterest can also be a labyrinthine distraction, as can be the mind-numbing apps on the iPad, but somehow I think there is more to living than these things.
Perhaps this is my eviction notice to myself. Or, maybe not an eviction, but a notice of renovation. It’s time to get out of my head. Or, perhaps not get out, but let in the sunlight and fresh air that surrounds me because I gotta tell you, the air is getting stale and oppressive, and the ambience is dreary. If anyone can recommend some good cleaning techniques, let me know.
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