Last Friday, I was at a bar with some friends from the university and suddenly, some guy from my class walks up to me and says something to the effect "Wow, look at this, we've got a celebrity here". I had never thought of myself as a fucking celebrity and although it did make me smile, I didn't hold on to it at all. So next time I go to a bar and people don't wet themselves with anticipation to get my autograph, I think I will be okay.
This incident, however, did make me wonder what it would be like to live life undefined by the past. You would really LOVE everybody. But that could be potentially harmful, right? Because there are some people with which interaction has been proved to hurt you. Sometimes I can see it in my mind, that some people around me have large red post-it notes above their heads that say "this person might hurt me (again)". What are you supposed to do with them? If my yoga teacher is right, the answer is to love them too, but from afar. It's kind of scary, loving somebody who's hurt you - but it only makes you a fool if you expect something.
But my mind can never leave a perfectly simple and all-encompassing set of instructions alone, so it quickly, and really, against my will, started examining the particulars of loving someone from afar and how it's possible to love without inviting them back [fear, dread]. As it always happens since the beginning of this year, the examining refused to put an end to itself, taking a life of its own in my head. I hate it when this happens, and it's every day.
After some quiet struggling with how not to struggle with my mind, the idea came to me, that since I can't stop living in my head for whatever reason, the only thing that's left to do is make my mind a more pleasant place to dwell in. Give all the recurring thoughts a nice home and some attention - the kind of attention you give to a neighbour when you're in a middle of a job. Say hello to every figment in the morning and tuck them into kitten baskets every night. Think of them as cute furry animals who really don't know better than to tap my shoulder with their paws whenever and wherever. Residents with a license.
This way of thinking made me laugh quietly and it worked, too. When I woke up the next morning, I said good morning to the figment, but it didn't wake up. I thought I had it all figured out for some precious, quiet moments, when a strange thing I had read crossed my mind: "Pretending the elephant isn't there or that it's a cute bunny might feel good temporarily, but is potentially harmful. What you really need to do is to safely get out of the jungle." I tried to resist this, against my better judgment, convince myself that it's not applicable here... but I really don't know. Either my mind is trying to sabotage me now that I've found a solution, or I haven't found one that will do more good than harm. Realistically speaking, a sane person wouldn't have to resort to putting imaginary black foxes into thought-boxes and feed them imaginary chickens to stay sane. So I suppose my mind is broken and any mental scheme I try to execute on my own is doomed, because I am both the patient and the doctors and we ALL have our sets of problems.
I give up, officially. I will not take my mind seriously again.
(I might as well get certified while I'm at it.)