I need to manage my mind.
It’s a bit like Grand Central Station up there these days and since I can’t keep things quiet, I tried gathering.
Last week, I herded thoughts into similar groups and then willed them to line up single file. I figured if I could get all of it to hold hands and stand still, I could march the thoughts right out one ear or the other.
It didn’t work.
So, now I’ve resorted to process flows. If they insist on clammoring around up there then I will map them a path rather than corale. This has led to lists I can’t find and talking to myself more than usual.
In an effort flow my mind, I seem to be taking these strange baby steps everywhere. This morning after getting lost in the parking lot of my gym, I talked myself down once I found the car.
“Okay, you found it. Now let’s get in and maybe we can stop for a tea on the way home. Turn on your audiobook and enjoy the ride home. Everything is fine,” I said, as I put my seatbelt on.
While toddler-stepping my way home, I realized I wasn’t managing anything. I was escaping, creeping around my mind trying to read it a book. And the parking lot moment, upon late night reflection, poses some questions. Most pressing— Who the hell are ‘we’?
“Maybe ‘we’ can get a tea?” I was alone and talking out loud to a ‘we’. I’m guessing that’s a cry for help, but I’ve rationalized it becuase I am trying to finish a first draft and the ‘we’ must have been my characters.
Sure, that’s what it was.
It was an offer to take my imaginary friends out for tea on ‘our’ way home. On the outset that seems crazy, possibly dipping into clinical, but there is a silver lining. Perhaps the ‘we’ can help with the mind management.
I think I’ll call a meeting tomorrow and delegate out all the thoughts to the people living in my head.
Perfect. I feel better already.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Family Bed.