I am out of control.
I can’t possibly be happy when there are so many terrible things happening in the world. Life seems so meaningless and unfair.
No one makes an effort to respect me.
No one would care if I was no longer here.
I can’t stop thinking about how Mark humiliated me in front of the whole office.
It’s so annoying.
I do regret snapping at Charlie though. I’m not sure what came over me.
And now I can’t stop thinking about how there’s something wrong with me.
Other people can be so unbearable.
I feel like I can be addicted to my thoughts.
But I need to keep thinking so that I feel in control.
I need to think so that I can figure out a way to fix myself because clearly there’s something wrong with me.
I am avoidant of the things that make me anxious.
My life is moulded by my fears.
Pete says I’m too ‘in my head.’
Well, of course I am. I’m human.
And I know that I probably think too much. I am an analytical person, so thinking is a part of who I am. More than most other people.
It comes naturally to me. I’m like Sherlock Holmes working on an investigation of my own problems.
You can often find me deep in thought.
Some people call me spaced out.
Like I’m not really there.
I understand that being in the moment is probably a good thing.
Like when I watch children laughing and playing, I can see that they don’t care about things so much as I do.
And I think back to those moments when I felt like I was really there.
Like actually there.
When I was making art or surfing in the sea. I was in the ‘right now’, and for some fleeting moments, I wasn’t thinking.
But right now, I need to think a little more about how to improve myself.
Like, if I have something important like a date, I need to think about precisely what I’m going to say, so I don’t look like an idiot.
My thoughts are moulded by my fears.
I experienced this funny rush yesterday.
I ‘got it’ that when I feel bad on rainy days, it isn’t because it’s raining.
It’s because I have a thought about the rain that makes me feel bad.
I had this realisation because I was in a cafe with James, and he was telling me how he loved the rain because it created an atmosphere that always made him feel creative.
I could then see because different people experience the same thing uniquely, it can’t be the thing itself that makes us feel a certain way.
Knowing that I experience my thoughts, rather than the weather, or my surroundings is a cool idea, but I can’t really see it yet.
I can’t hold the idea. It just floats away, and I’m back in anxiety.
The world still scares me a lot.
Responsibility scares me.
People can scare me.
I meditate now because Emily said it helped her reduce her anxiety.
Usually, I get sleepy when I do it, and I find that I end up thinking about the same, except that this time my legs are crossed, and I’m more uncomfortable than usual.
I try and do ten minutes in the morning.
Except when I need to rush to work when I oversleep.
I managed to meditate a little longer than usual today.
I found that I started to enjoy it.
Like seeing that I was breathing and watching my breaths go in and out was sort of nourishing, like drinking water in the desert.
I felt like I was detached from myself for a moment.
And it was nice not to be ruminating for a change.
I still meditate when I remember to.
I do more of the things that used to make me really nervous.
I try and stay present in those moments, but my heart still pounds and I get sweaty when I’m in the spotlight.
Those setbacks are frustrating, and I vow to be even more present next time I feel fearful.
I don’t meditate so much any more because I try and bring my attention to things around me in my general life.
I have this sense that being present even when things don’t scare me makes me calmer in general.
So by being present when I’m not anxious, I will be calmer during those times when I can get nervous.
Being aware of the clicks of my shoes on the concrete.
The Autumnal scent of rotting leaves in the park.
The flapping wings of pigeons, and the honks of passing cars.
Where were you before?
Actually listening to someone rather than figuring out how to say the next impressive thing.
I still easily forget to do all this, and it usually takes waking up at 3am with a pounding heart to remind me that being more present actually does help.
Cultivating ubiquitous presence is changing my reality.
I see that staying in awareness, especially during moments when I am least stressed, is vital.
I’m loving my daily walks where I am conscious of so much.
Attention is life force.
There is beauty in every tiny thing.
It’s funny, but I am beginning to grow addicted to consciousness.
I’m even conscious (when I remember to be) when washing the dishes.
The joy I experience in presence helps me drop bad habits.
It’s like it’s effortless, and I spend more time creating.
I’m more productive because everything is ‘one thing at a time,’ rather than ‘as much as possible all at once.’
I look forward to those things from which I previously tried to escape.
I can see that my whole life has been spent in a prison of thought.
I see now that I create everything.
I am whoever I want to be. My old stories are dim, cracking outlines.
It’s no longer about me, but about stirring up aliveness in others.
I am immune to those outside triggers because I need not engage an ugly thought. It will dissipate and soon be replaced.
I love that I no longer need to do what my thoughts tell me I should do.
My spirit provides me with all the solutions and insights I need.
I let go.
I just am.
I am free.
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If these ideas stirred something in you, I’d love to read your comment below. I read them all.
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Alex
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