Sometimes I catch myself mentally asking why things are happening to me. I wonder how on earth I got myself into such bizarre situations – situations, which warrant stress, strain and perpetual anxiety. I question how I could ever let certain circumstances manifest. I ponder relentlessly; how did I open myself to this?
Tonight is one of those nights. A night when I sit here and I think and I think and I think some more. And then my thinking frustrates me. And then I think about why my thinking frustrates me. And then I think about why I shouldn’t be thinking that my thinking frustrates me because all thoughts are meaningful. You get the picture right? Basically, my brain is a powerful whirlwind of inharmonious thoughts. Yup, tonight my mind is all higgledy-piggledy.
So, what do you do? What do you do when your head feels muddled and that disorientation paralyzes you?
Ok, I’ve got to be honest with you; I’m no expert. I haven’t discovered a black and white answer to this question despite relentless searching. To be even more honest, I don’t know anyone has. It’s kind of a ‘'build to suit’ thing where you’ve got to do the investigating and experimenting yourself. And even then, you may still be answerless. What I do know, however is that the process of searching is what’s important. The journey of curbing the kerbobbled mind is where you ought to start.
So, I’m starting the search. I’m in the very beginning stages of the process. I actually feel like I’m just only packing my bags to embark on this adventure. I’m working on thinning my pack; ensuring I only take the things I need. Deciding what those things are is proving more difficult than I originally anticipated. So, what have I got so far? I’ve got 10 things jammed into my rucksack that resonate with me – 10 things I feel I will without a doubt need on this trip. Perhaps (but aok if they don’t) they’ll be things you pack before you board the train of self-discovery.
At the time being, the concept of ever NOT thinking about what I’m thinking about seems distant and slightly inconceivable. But perhaps that’s part of the adventure – thinking that self-realization is so far away – thinking that my mind will forever be kerbobbled. Regardless, whatever’s going to happen is going to happen and whatever happens is supposed to happen. So I zip my backpack up, sling it over my shoulder and open the door. The door to where, I’m about to find out.
The honest learnings and raw reflections of my practice and my life. Unedited.