I had a thought today.
Let me just add—when I ‘think’, I don’t just think: I think, then I think about thinking, then I think about thinking about the thinking, and then I think some more about all the thinking, until I become so confused I have no idea what I’m thinking, but I think I thought about something that made me think it was worthwhile pursuing all the thinking.
But, of course, this isn’t the thought I had today—it is simply a previous thought to support what it was I was thinking about, today, when I had my thought.
You see: I figured out that I’m oddly grateful for my bewildering cognitive abilities. I haven’t always thought this, mind you, but today it was the thought I had. Yep: my convoluted and exasperating thought process seemed … comforting.
I know. But I came up with a theory: my overthinking mind allows me to relate to the insane, the mildly deranged and the so-called sane … because at any particular thought in time I am any one of these things. (Thinking and thinking about thinking: sane. Thinking about thinking about thinking: slightly deranged. Confused, overwhelmed, and weeping over her chaotic thinking patterns: insane.)
So, today (while thinking and peacefully weeping), I came to this bizarre conclusion that it’s actually quite lovely to be a fuckoff–big thinker. I am able to be both different and the same; to be all and one; to contemplate the possibility that my thoughts, although my own, have already been thought— and rethought—by everyone, really: by myself and by others; by those who are living and by those who are no longer alive; by those I know and by those I don’t; by those I have met and by those I will never meet; by those who think big and by those who think small … at some point my mind has thought the thoughts of them all.
I suppose, this means I will always have a close companion—even if it’s a mind full of chaotic internal monologues playing on repeat.
My thoughts let me experience and consider the true magnificence of, not only the mind, but also of humanity: reason, perception, emotion and remarkable, often-intangible connection.
So today I had a thought: it’s kind of comforting that at any given thought in time I can be in this reality or another one completely, with a different or unchanged personality, meeting myself while never having left myself and being ‘on my own’ in my thought-filled mind thinking thoughts that are, or have been, the thoughts of someone else. That I can be one human but think the thoughts of many.
It’s a beautiful thought, the thought I thought today: we are never alone, even when we feel overwhelmed or isolated in our magnificently maddened minds. For our thoughts are simply little stories we tell ourselves; snippets of the same story that has been told, lived, loved and recycled as each and every thought goes by.