The Desanctification

The mind is meant to be our tool, but the tool can take us over entirely, so we become it, we can’t see anything out of it – it’s circular.

A lot has been said about thinking, but its taken me ages to work out that it is what goes on in my head, and I thought that I was powerless over my thoughts, and when I feel low or anxious it does-very-much feel like my thoughts are in control, er, and there’s no, there’s no control over them at all, by myself, but, a bit like anything really, I suppose its practice, and realising, um, how my thoughts can screw me up.

I had a situation at work where things were going – where things were pretty tough, and I thought, I can tell, I can tell where this is going, and then and then a more healthy part of me thought “why don’t you write down how you think this is going to go, then by the end of next week we’ll see if you were right?”

And I did, you know, wrote down exactly how I thought this was going to go, and of course, ehm, thoroughly convinced that I would be proven right, and er, I was completely proven wrong, and it all turned out OK, and that really was like a scientific experiement to see if my negative thoughts were true, in any sense, and uhm, I, as I said today, projecting what anyone else is thinking when they send an email, even that’s impossible because people can’t express themselves, necessarily great via an email, and, and me thinking “that’s quite selfish of them.” and then sitting here today and thinking, you know “well, I’m selfish, should I really be surprised if I come up against selfishness in other people?” 

The email I sent, to which this person responded to, in itself was very selfish in many ways, and erm, I certainly have an easier time in life when I accept that we’re all flawed human beings, me included, because, what that means is; a) it happens to be true, and secondly, I don’t have this, I’m not left with this burning resentment that I’ve been hard done by, ha ha, when somebody is selfish, you know, as if I come as some sort of saintly figure, and everybody else is off their programme… erm, and it takes a lot of weight off me when I can accept I’m selfish and they’re selfish, and we’re all just trying to, er, learn as we go along.

And I though of my young students, at college, and I thought, you know, what we really need to teach children is not what to think but how to think. Instead of filling my students’ heads with facts, you know, teach them how to think in constructive ways, not to be brought into this mad system of “you are how you look, you are, you know, your worthiness is down to your IQ, or your worthiness is down to your possessions,” and all the rest.

And then, that’s what I really should have been taught at school – by my parents, is um, how to think, because it is on that basis that I ended up how I am; because of my thinking, and it was bad thinking for me, from age seven onwards, erm, I think, looking back on it, and a seven year old has no insight into, um, how to think healthily. But I’ve got that choice today, as I said earlier, I have a choice countless times a day, if a thought comes into my head, anger or something, I can go with it, go round the block with it, five hundred times, and damage myself, because that’s what my thoughts will do, they’ll hurt me, or, I can recognise it for nothing but a thought, and not reality, and discard it, and um, they’re the choices, the’re the most important choices I have to do really, not as to what I will have for lunch, or you know, what I will choose to read or watch or whatever. The choices I have to make, are sometimes on a minute-by-minute basis, and er, will I run with the next thought, or will I dismiss it as nothing more than a fantasy?

And, er I’ll just finish on this, sorry to bang on, last week I went to the shed, my garden shed, and I had all of my letters, and postcards and everything from… past relationships, and erm, there’d been a leak in the roof, and most of them, most of them were wrecked, and erm, and I went through them, and erm, and it felt a bit like clearing out after someone had died, clearing out all the stuff of somebody who had died, and erm, and erm, I was sad for about ten minutes, and then I felt absolutely liberated as I took all these erm, love letters, you know, that I’d hung onto, you know, love letters that I’d hung onto as physical evidence, you know, that some beautiful girl had once loved me, and you know, and then and then watching it disintegrate, you know, because of all the shit that had gone on it, and thinking, and then putting it in the bin, and thinking, “actually, I don’t feel any less loved now they’re in the bin, than I did…” but it was, it was like hiding, like hiding this evidence of you know “I must have meant something to someone, surely surely!” and I just dumped them all in – and I survived. So yeah, so I’m living in the day, and erm, I don’t keep cards anymore, and erm, just living in the day. 

It’s “more will be revealed” rather than “here we go again.”

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