Last weekend I had an unusual occurrence. I stopped thinking. Now that sounds a little odd but my mind is constantly in motion. It’s a little creepy when I say it out loud but it simply means I am always aware of thoughts. Good thoughts. I work out short stories in my head or posts for my blog or poems. A lot of my quips come out of my gentle musings. I watch TV or read to distract me but I’m rarely able to do one thing at a time. And then last weekend it all stopped.
You know how people are always saying in order to truly relax you must rid your mind of all thought. I can’t do that. I’m like a hamster on a wheel going around and around and around. It’s been like this my entire life so to me it’s just like white noise. My mind is always cogitating in the background and for the most part I don’t pay attention. I explained to a friend that one has a brain, a mind and body. We are our own trinity. Think of it as your brain is the hardware, your mind is the software and your body is the packaging that keeps everything from falling apart. I told you my mind works in strange ways. So, when it stopped, I was . . . bereft.
Do you remember the expression: “Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink”? It’s from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Of course, I modified it for my circumstances . . . Clutter, clutter everywhere and not a thought to think. My mind is full of clutter, as is my home. I have always admired the concept of minimalism but I could never live that way. I need my clutter. It enlightens me, it inspires me, it consoles me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
For almost two days I wandered around my apartment trying to distract myself. Fortunately, my weeks-worth of posting was already set. It’s like walking through a visual world and not being able to see. One of my senses was gone. It was not gone for long. But it did leave me unsettled. I have now gotten a post out of it so it wasn’t all bad.
I greatly admire people who have lost an ability and have been able to function beautifully with what they have left. Then again maybe I do understand. I lost my legs 20 years ago or rather I lost the use of them. I’ve been in a wheelchair for two decades and my life really hasn’t changed significantly. Yes, I have to modify how things are done and there are things that do defeat me but I can usually find a work-around. It helps to be tenacious and occasionally cranky. The Ancient Mariner may have been becalmed on a salty sea with nothing to drink but I have people and words to go to for thoughtful nourishment.