Posts Tagged ‘thinking’
Everyday Thinking
Knowing better doesn’t always prevent me from suffering moments of feeling overwhelmed by the mixture of world events I can’t control and my agendas and responsibilities I can control that need attention. I know that if I just stop thinking about the combination of issues and “to-do” list items I could settle my mind with a deep breath and a pleasant thought, but that does nothing toward making progress on issues I need to address.
Not a day goes by free of reports about the narcissistic grifter whose name I resist typing or saying. Do you know how many days have passed since the Republican party adopted him as their shining light? It is very hard to endure while striving to maintain a healthy outlook about the sanctity of truth and justice in the world over such a long duration of daily pounding.
Is it any wonder why I enjoy losing myself in the athletic competitions of spectator sports?
One basic method of dealing with the unrelenting growth of my personal “to-do” list when it starts to weigh on me oppressively is to simply take action on things that just need ‘a trigger pulled’ so to speak. Get them off the list. Just do it.
I’ve asked for quotes from local landscape companies to upgrade the settled soil around the foundation of our house. Out of 4 companies contacted, I received 2 proposals. There were a lot of differences between the two. I left them hanging for a couple of weeks because I couldn’t decide how I wanted to proceed. I told the outfit that recently phoned looking for a decision that I would let them know this week.
Yesterday, I called and turned both companies down. Think of the money we’ll save! A much more rudimentary version of the upgrade might still happen, but I will be providing all the labor and materials.
Cyndie and I made it to our polling station before noon and voted in our local spring election. Knocked those decisions off my list.
I logged into my Medicare account and finally filled out an application for one of the gazillion options lobbying for my attention. Wish that would curtail the inundation of spam texts, emails, and unhelpful snail mail coming my way. There are an amazing number of medical insurance corporations aware of the fact my birth happened almost 65 years ago.
When I notice there are pending decisions beginning to pile up in my already thoroughly cluttered mind, one fix that helps me is to take immediate action on things that I have been putting off. When I know deep down that additional research won’t add anything substantive to a decision I’m already leaning toward, taking action to instantly alleviate the pressure of that task is good therapy.
Then I can sit down to watch the next great moment in sports with a much freer sensibility.
“Oh! They are going to pull the goalie!?”
What were they thinking?
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Not Thinking
Some people use meditation to clear their minds. Shut out the thoughts. What fun, I thought, …without thinking.
There is a trick that writers can use to stop all thoughts. Here’s how it works. First, sit down at the keyboard. Well, that’s about it. That’s all it takes.
BOOM! The mind is blank.
It’s like magic.
But that didn’t happen to me today. Nope.
Okay, it did. But I got over it. The day is dawning with a zero degree (F) chill, but otherwise quiet. We don’t have a lot going on today, beyond the wonderfully entertaining chicken jigsaw puzzle and keeping a cozy fire burning in the fireplace. Tomorrow we expect it to start snowing and Sunday I plan to shovel and plow.
I saw a news item about conspiracy theorists (paranoid delusionists) seeing “signs” in a variety of ways and places and it has me thinking two things. Part of me laughs over how many signs could be found everywhere we look and a more mischievous part of me wants to start putting out some secret signs of my own for people to discover.
Not sure what I could point them to. Love, I suppose. Maybe I could start a conspiracy that everything is about love and there are signs supporting it everywhere! You just have to look for them.
Think about it.
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Unintentional Meditation
The truth is, I just don’t know what to think. There is a simple solution for that, though. Sometimes I just don’t.
Think, that is. Maybe that is my version of unintentional meditation.
There are plenty of days that boil down to just putting one foot in front of the other. Some people do a better job of that than others. I believe there is an art to finding a way to carry on with a seemingly endless routine, regardless of having either a preconceived intention or none at all, on any given day.
Being something of a “both/and” person, I have no problem reconciling the odd combination of experiencing two opposing emotions simultaneously. More often than not, it is probably fair to say that I feel both happy and sad all at the same time.
Whatever gets you through the day is okay.
There is an interesting dynamic in the process of striving to become more healthy with time. Like peeling an onion, or zooming in for a closer look, new opportunities for improvement keep coming into view as progress is achieved. It’s as if someone keeps moving the goal line of optimal health farther away as I approach.
Progress begets progress, and so in one aspect, advances –both mental and physical– seem to come a little easier with time. But, there is also a change in the rate of improvement over time which makes it harder to perceive ongoing gains being achieved.
Of course, I have chosen love as my secret –or not so secret– weapon of choice for solving life challenges. I need to remind myself to love myself and send love to others all along the way. It helps to sooth angst over plateauing progress and energize doldrums that might begin to weigh me down.
The biggest success I hope to celebrate someday in my life will be a time when I discover that I am beaming that self-love and love for others without needing to think about it.
Wouldn’t that be a fine ambiance in which to live?
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Just Thinking
I tried thinking and thinking but no thinks ever came to me. Where did they go? I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter, because with an absence of thinks, comes a propensity to not care. At least, I don’t think I care, if that’s what it’s like to not think any thinks.
What I mean is, I don’t care that I can’t think of any stories to write.
The other day I found myself telling Cyndie that I felt an urge to be preparing for a new expedition. Obviously, life with animals and 20 acres is its own expedition, but I think I was longing to escape to some other remote adventure.
I would not be surprised if this were a way I am manifesting my grief. Escape.
Conveniently, today I have an opportunity to begin planning for one of my favorite annual adventures. Today, registration opens for the Tour of Minnesota biking and camping week. My adventure awaits.
It is not lost on me that one of the things that I love the most about the Tour of Minnesota is that I don’t need to do much thinking throughout the week. The route is determined and mapped in advance for us, the camping locations are established, the meals are set.
I just show up to ride my bike, and go with the flow.
No critical thinking required.
I think I can manage that.
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Touch
..
I missed it
when some sort of chance
snuck past
silently
snow flakes falling
fearlessly
without even knowing
I reached out
through everything
that was nothing
hoping to touch
a mystery
to feel what it’s like
a perfect reality
that laughs
and loves
while I was thinking
simply
in a moment
I should have been
feeling
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I’m Thinking
I’m thinking of changing my writing style. Making it great again. Really great. You already know —and people tell me this— that I write about what I know. I know a lot. I’m smart. Very smart. I’m the best friend blogging has ever had. They love me. I tell all the stories about our dog Delilah; the best dog. Best breed. Very, very smart.
We have horses —Arabian horses— that I write about when I blog. Incredible horses. Our horses love me. When I go down to clean their manure —they create a lot of manure; 50 pounds per day from each horse, every day. You could power a small factory on the heat their composting manure creates every day. Daily— I can walk right between each of the horses, right between, and they know why I’m there. They will come right up to me, Hunter does this, they walk over to piles I am raking, while I’m still raking the piles, and deposit a fresh contribution for me to collect.
Their manure is so smart, it composts itself. I don’t do anything. Just make a pile. It cooks on its own. Hundreds of degrees. 160° right in the middle of the pile.
Okay, enough of that dung. Except maybe the narcissistic part where I bragged superlatively. That part was pretty great. Well, sort of great, anyway. I want to give some credit to the article I spotted on Vox while researching linguistic stylings, which inspired my little adventure in changing my writing style for a few paragraphs.
Back to my woe-be-gone tales of our paradise called Wintervale… where all the horses are strong, the dog is good-looking, and the cat is probably above average. We are wallowing in the purgatory of “between-snow.” That’s a phrase I use to categorize the amount of snow which is messy and should be cleared, but isn’t enough to deserve shoveling or plowing. It’s a common winter hassle, especially during periods between real snowstorms that dump so much snow at one time you have no choice but to plow if you want to get in and out of the driveway.
The best way to solve the conundrum is to simply plow as soon as it falls, even if it is barely enough to warrant the use of the machine. My problem in this case is a limited opportunity (or to be more precise, limited energy), after getting home from the day-job. An inch or two isn’t worth the push to get off my butt and plow after work, whereas three or more inches would inspire me to rise to the occasion.
Since I’m home today, I will do some plowing. It will give me an opportunity to test out that tire repair I did before leaving for Florida, and allow me to clean up the paths I want to have open for the tree trimmers, whom I hope will be here in a week or two.
That’s what I’m thinking, anyway.
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Relative Something 