Obsessing on all things annoying doesn’t do me any good—any more than the tape loop of “You’re Still The One” going round and round and round and round and round and round in my head this morning does. (Thanks a lot, Tom.)
The two must be related, a sort of OCD, and both are troubling—although my inability to divert my mind from negatives is certainly more harmful.
Don’t suggest any happyface crap like counting my blessings. I find that as ineffective as trying to hum a different tune. I know what my blessings are and they’re great but they don’t make life’s irritations vanish. They are an “and” not a “but.” I have all this AND that pisses me off. If I try humming a different tune, it invariably turns into “Ebony and Ivory” and then I just have another problem.
The trouble with the good things is that they provide nothing, really, to chew on. With the negatives, I can have all kinds of heated conversations in my head. I’ve told people off a thousand times and ways in my head. Sometimes out loud, if I’m not careful, as I drive or walk the dog.
But with the good things, you think of them, give them a nod, and then what? OK, maybe if I tried to think of every single little tiny itty bitty good thing in my life it would keep my mind busy for the duration of a walk … would that be as entertaining as kicking a little imaginary ass?
I do sometimes chew on writing problems as I walk—I plant the question in my mind and try to stay focused on it. This requires a lot of discipline because when I’m feeling as I am this week, negative thinking is my default mode. The effort to avoid it is so great, letting my mind slip into an angry rut feels like falling into a featherbed. An uncomfortable featherbed.
I’m OK when I’m busy. I have lots to do today and that will keep the angry voices in my head distracted. But pity poor Jack when it’s walk o’clock and my chattering demons take over.
8 comments:
I constantly talk to myself in the car working out lines to something I want to write - it does get embarassing when I am sitting at a light and notice the people in the car next to me staring.
Now wasn't this more fun than talking about dreary love?
LOL I do the car thing too...
At least I sound less pompous (to myself, anyway) than when I try to talk about love.
Love is never easy to describe without sounding like a Hallmark card. But, it is what it is, and it's one of the miracles of this life.
Hmm... a miracle...would I describe it as such? I have to think about that. It's an awful lot of work to be miraculous.
Are miracles ever easy without a sacrifice of some sort?
Love is also excruciating and exquisite.
Sometimes both at the same time.
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