My thoughts would kill me
“I can’t spend one single minute without looking at my mobile! I can’t just sit and do nothing, it’s too tough! My thoughts would kill me!”
I always wonder why anyone should be afraid of themselves. Why would anyone be scared to be left alone with their own thoughts? Why would someone prefer scrolling down social media instead of just staring at the sky? Why does the world come tumbling down every night when we are trying to sleep without nothing but thoughts?
Are our thoughts so ugly? Inhuman? Chaotic? Or is it just too honest for our liking? Perhaps they just bore.
Did you know there are so many schools of meditation advocating complete renouncement of verbal communication, eye contact and any possession for a few days to mediate in utter silence – to be left alone with your thoughts. Your mind and your mind’s mind locked up in a very tiny cell (just for clarity, your mind is the one reading this, and your mind’s mind is the bugger voice)
The art of meditation is difficult, requires patience and practice. But this blog is not on meditation, or on how to manage stress, or on how to make your thoughts float (I have personally been trying in vain to meditate since a decade now, I wish I could make my thoughts float!) But to be left alone, with two (maybe even more) voices in your head, driving you to anxiety and tears, is a different game. You will have only two choices – go sane or go insane.
Think about it like you are trapped in a hypothetical room. The room is extremely unorganized and dirty. There’s a heap of unwashed clothes lying somewhere. Another pile waiting to be neatly put in the closet. The bin’s overflowing. There’s half-eaten snack pack on the floor. Some old, dried up tomato ketchup splashed on the table. That’s probably because the owner is too busy with his/her work. He/she comes back to this place every day, probably planning to organize it someday, but as time passes, it gets worse. Laundry piles up. The mug from the lover was smashed to get rid of it. Old news papers fill up the remaining space. The worse it gets, the more the owner looks for reasons to stay outside. The room is too unkempt to be salvaged easily.
The reality is too demanding now.
Few days passed since you got trapped. Weeks passed. You try to ignore the mess at first, but slowly you start accepting that the only good thing to do would be to clean it up and get everything in order. And it won’t be easy. So, you pick up your broom, you fold your laundry, you burn the old lover’s photo, you put the medal on display. You grow some new plants, you throw a nice rug and you sit at the window looking out. You’re safe and warm now, you’ve created your home.
You won’t be running out of time to put things back in place every once in a while.
You won’t be hating the idea of going home again.
And you know now that you’re coming back here again.
This home is your little trashed up mind. It’s only when you get some time by yourself, that you realize how much you’ve bottled up all these years. Pain, tears, smiles, anxiety – memories. Still yours, just need to be placed where they belong. You see, in the end, you must choose to get back home, a place to be. No matter how much you run away from your thoughts and shut them inside you, your mind is the only safe place of your life.
It’s important to declutter it. It’s important to notice the mess. It’s important to deal with each of your thought, however painful, and place it where it belongs – safe closet, trash, on display, or out of the window.
While we stay at our homes, let’s be happy to have time to clear our favorite home.
I'm Bhavini. Welcome to my blog!
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2 AM. Drunk. Called up your ex?
Accept it or not. We all have done it.
We’re drunk enough to be “out of senses” but yet, we know we are totally in our senses! So we pick up our phone – the number has been deleted long back, but our fingers, yes our fingers – they remember the number. Well if not, there’s this WhatsApp group from a year ago which will still show their number in members list, right?
The numbers are keyed in. We take a pause (dramatically: a sigh). What am I doing? I can remember what all things they did to me. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. This won’t end well.
We hit the dial button.
So what if it gets weird? We are drunk enough. If it goes wrong, we were too drunk. Out of our senses. Good enough excuse. Hah!
And if it all goes well – Well, what exactly then? Patch up, chit chat, be friends? No, Not really. But the dial tone is already on.
Right. Left. Left. Right. Right.
A pic from Paris. Showing off? With his dog? Too Mainstream! Oh wow! He cooks! Now that is a hot workout post. I love those biceps!
It is a mere break from office, or from studies or just a way to pass time while standing in a queue
It is the dopamine rush to be able to meet new people.
It is the excitement, which one awaits for the weekend.
It is the comfort of knowing people like you.
Or is it our raw hunger of power over people? Is it the mind game of who is going to text first? Is it the ego-stroking effect of likes and super likes? Is it the ability to immediately satiate oneself without the need of any real effort?
It’s not anyone’s fault and no one is to blame.