I’m a thinker.
When something happens, I need to think about it.
Or when something doesn’t happen, or might happen, or I want something to happen, or not.
On and on. You get my drift.
In a world designed for those who can multi-task, making dinner while checking homework, answering email and posting a stunning #nofilter picture on Instagram, I feel constantly, perpetually, emphatically, behind.
But the problem with all of that, with trying to do all of that, just to keep up, to keep my head above water, there isn’t any time to think.
I can’t come up with an answer to your questions until you give me time to think about them. Real time – not 30 seconds or 5 minutes but as long as I need.
Go away, I’ll get back to you. The store is closed, come back another time, there’s nothing for you here.
I think that’s one of the reasons writing has always been so good for me – it’s like my button to pause the world. I can’t write about it if I’m not thinking about it – whatever ‘it’ might be today, in this moment.
But the flip side is that in sitting down to write about ‘it’ I have to force myself to think. To stop hiding from whatever issue is nibbling at the edges of my brain, and sit down, pull it out into the open to examine from every angle, dissect it.
If I don’t write about it, I don’t have to think about it. So when I’m not writing, I’m not thinking. When the page is blank it’s because I’m running full speed – not necessarily away from something, but not toward something either.
I’m running because I’ve forgotten how to do anything but.
There’s been a lot going on these days that I should stop and think about. Part of me relishes the chance, and the other part is inherently fearful of what the thinking will bring with it.
But either way, I know it’s time.