4:41 pm
Or, maybe I should say, putting my body into motion, out of doors! (of course, I am talking about outdoors in a warm climate; yeah, I used to suit up and go jogging in the snow…in my early 20s, when I was too broke to afford a gym/didn’t know any better–haha)
Long story short, I have been thinking about thinking lately–well, a lot; obsessed with it, actually. Is it called, metacognition? I think that might be an actual area of study, and I am FAR from being in a place of that much understanding when it comes to what I think and why I hold onto my thoughts. I have been tempted for many, many months to stop writing altogether, including in my journal–I wonder, is focusing on bringing the chatter, the negativity, the maybe-meaningless observations to life in the form of words and sentences only serving to perpetuate a state of stagnation, of wallowing, of confusion?
Most of my life, and especially as someone who likes to write (or, let’s face it, a writer; I can’t not write, and sometimes I think that is 100% compulsion, not desire); I have put value on both my thoughts and analyzing my thoughts–as if they were important, or held some key to the meaning of life, or at least the meaning of MY life. After getting sober and writing about the process, which, admittedly involved a LOT of thinking and thoughts (haha); then moving into more longer-term sobriety, where the thinking and thoughts have become more like incessant chatter and less like answers to the problems of the universe–I don’t really know where thinking and thoughts fit into my overall picture of mental health anymore.
Anyway, today, I drafted a long post, discovered that much of it sounded, well, insane, and was like, GAH, I need to walk away from this. I suited up in my running gear and went out into nature. And I swear, all the chatter stopped. And, it was glorious. This is why I run, walk, or swim, or do yoga–always in constant motion, it seems. It just soothes my mind; quiets it. I mean, as I was gliding along, I just looked around at the trees, the hillside with different patterns of shadows and sunlight coating the asphalt, the multicolored homes of different angles, shapes, and sizes–I looked around and asked myself, so, are you thinking anything when you look around at nature, when you feel the sun on your shoulders? Yes, but no. I am thinking, but it’s more of a one-tone feeling of peace, of rightness, or nothing-good-or-bad-it-just-is. I don’t judge the world around me, and most importantly, it doesn’t judge me (or, I don’t believe it does). It is not thinking toward me, and I am not thinking toward it. I just feel this uplifted feeling, and it is simply positive. Not necessary to think anything; just necessary to be, which is easy out there, in the natural world.
There is something about being around other people that is incessant chatter-provoking. I would say, being in the natural world, generally, is thought-provoking (the good kind of thinking; the big thoughts that help you solve a problem or see something more clearly).
I just love exercise; I always feel better, less thought-full, literally. And, rejuvenated, especially if I’ve exercised outdoors. I guess I can say that exercise is my medicine; my anti-chatter “pill.” And, these days, I am beginning to wonder if MOST, if not all, of my thinking is chatter… Which begs the question, what does a writer write about if most of what she thinks she considers useless chatter?
On the dog front, our girl is plugging away, better than she was a few weeks ago when her left hind leg gave out. It seems to have gotten less lame–she can walk on it now, but not that far. Good news is, she can go on walks, usually only one per day, if that. Bad is that, even though her left hind seems better than non-functional, both her hind legs are very weak; I have to use the harness for most of the walk these days to help her stand, walk, and um, pee and poop (let’s face it, she poops sitting down almost all the time now). Her mental faculties are there, and she is still fierce and funny; it’s just…I can’t forget that her time is short.
And, I am still off the ‘book (Facebook), five weeks as of yesterday. While I don’t necessarily miss anyone’s updates, or the noise; I am starting to feel a bit…isolated, or out of it. So…that’s that; I’ll probably go on soon, but it’s nice to be in my bubble a little bit longer to continue to collect myself (so that I can go back out there, into the external world, and give of myself while also stay centered and sane).
Drunky Drunk Girl 