But just don’t have the cojones to blurt it out. I’ve got so many thoughts all jammed in my head that it’s a wonder I can keep the focus on one foot in front of the other. Now, people talking? That’s a distraction from those thoughts in the squiggles of my brain all pushing their way out like the Peanuts characters singing at the top of their lungs. When others talk, I listen, and those lodged thoughts settle down into the recesses while my temporal lobe goes to work jumping ahead of the band on stage to be the center, at attention. Now and again, I hear something that sets off my hippocampus for a moment and a divertissement ensues. I quickly have to reel it all back in before those little bits of circus debris make their way to the fore to twist my mouth into speech. Interrupting the speaker? Parish the thought! But I do, yes, I do. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.
Sometimes I take breaks from people to just sit in the stillness and let my mind unfold in myriad ways with pen to paper, fingers to keys, mouth to microphone and just let it all go. Many make a profession out of this, and I must say that I’ve had some success in this arena. I neither own a home nor drive a new car, but my mental output puts food in front of me, and I am so gratefully satisfied.
Sometimes you have to write things that you want to say out loud but can’t or don’t. When I live through a seemingly unbearable situation, I attempt to write about it in order to keep the peace that helps maintain my sanity and increase my mental health.
There is one thing that I do that keeps me ultra focused on a central theme, and that is teaching. When in lecture or lab with adroit minds capturing my every word and movement, I am completely at the moment. The most difficult times in my life have occurred during my years of teaching, and it was only in those moments with my students that I found salvation. All of the pain simply went away as dedication to my craft co-opted me.
Music, oh music, my favorite beguilement, whisks me away like a Calgon bath. I can neither write nor speak with its accompaniment. The sonorous treasure of music attracts my full attention with each new note deliberately playing the mouse to my cat.
And so it goes, I wrote something recently that I have wanted to share out loud with the person to whom the words were intended. With nary a filter, I wrote my mind, and I shall not be in her company again. Sometimes writing can do that for you.