Do you like the thoughts you’re thinking? How can you change the thoughts you don’t like? Or how can you ignore them? Let them pass like flies in the atmosphere of your brain? These are the questions I’m pondering this Sunday morning.
I have so many thoughts. We all do. I wonder if there’s a way to document every single thought we’ve ever had since we were able to think. How old were we when we were first cognizant of our thoughts? Three? Four? Two? Hell, I don’t remember my first thought. I bet it was a doozy. Something like, “What is that funky smell in my diaper?” Or, “Why is this baby food so horrible?”
I just know that sometimes my mind comes up with random thoughts that throw my whole being off-kilter. Sends me in a tailspin of worry, anxiety, fear and dread. Or just anger. Or rage. Not much rage. Or sadness.
But on the other side is this whole range of thoughts that are beautiful:
“I’m going to win the lottery.”
“I’m going to wake up tomorrow with a full head of hair.”
“I’m going to kiss my wife and she’ll say I’m the most amazing man in the entire universe.”
“Every human on Earth will hold hands and sing ‘We Are Family’ by the Pointer Sisters.”
(In tune, of course…)
I just randomly popped those thoughts out of my head and through my fingers.
So what’s going on? Who’s running the show? Are my thoughts leading me? Or am I leading my thoughts?
Who the hell is in control?
Is the tail wagging the dog? Or is the dog just sitting around chewing on a bone of wishful thinking?
Who’s the dog? Me? What dog?
I don’t know anything anymore.
I wake up and do the same damn things every morning. I yawn. I high-five myself in the mirror—because some book told me to—and I turn on the coffee maker.
And my first thought if the coffee maker isn’t primed and ready is, “You fool. Why didn’t you set this up the night before!?”
Methinks maybe waking up and calling myself a fool first thing in the AM ain’t such a good idea.
So I investigate my thoughts further. I sit and “meditate,” or rather, I sit and “wait” for the coffee to brew.
As I sit, I simply breathe in and out. I hope my cat doesn’t come in the room and disturb this morning ritual. I don’t want to think bad thoughts about my cat. After all, he’s just a cat. A beautiful dumb feline only concerned with food, water, clean litter box, stealing my office chair and open windows so he can sit and watch birds.
I wonder what thoughts are going through his head when he sees birds outside the window? I wonder if they’re thoughts or just autonomic, random guttural instinctual responses to catch and kill.
He’s probably not thinking, “Oh, well…maybe I shouldn’t go after that sparrow, it’s just a little bird. I don’t want to hurt it. I should just eat cantaloupe…”
No. No thoughts for kitty in the morning. Kitty must live in a land of pure feeling and instinct.
Can I be like my kitty? Can I just do things without thinking?
I don’t want to kill birds. Nor do I want to just think about a clean litter box.
But I want to do things more with my gut, my instincts, my entire being—instead of being led around by my brain.
My brain is the steering wheel. I should have my hands on the wheel. I should control my thoughts more. Right?
I should be thinking good thoughts and not bad thoughts. What are “good” thoughts?
Thoughts that make me feel peaceful, energized, positive, happy.
What are “bad” thoughts. Oh, well…maybe thoughts that make me feel sad, fearful, angry, resentful, depressed, despondent…
Or maybe I just need to let those thoughts go by, and I just sit and watch them. Like a movie in my mind.
And this movie is totally free. I don’t need to throw down 60 bucks to get a front row seat.
How about you? What thoughts bring you down and make you feel hopeless or despondent?
It’s good to know what they are and how they affect you.
And then it’s good to sit at some proverbial window, like my cat, and just let your gut run your life. To a point.
You have to be careful. Those Ferraris look a lot like a sparrow to a human. And you can’t just go into the Ferrari showroom with no money and just take one. Like a cat might take a bird.
You might just need to think of a few ways to make that money.
And that’s when your brain becomes real useful to your life.
Or you can just think, with your humble brain, “I don’t need that Ferrari. I can walk to the grocery store…”