I think I think too much. I think this because I think all the time. Think, think, think, it’s always happening no matter what I’m doing, even if I’m doing nothing, I’m thinking.
I’m thinking about everything all the time and maybe I can’t hit on everything at once, but you’d be surprised just how much I can hit on in a short amount of time and space. Even for a woman, I’ve heard our minds be compared to that of a plate of spaghetti, all over the place, I think I think more than that. Even in places where thinking need not apply, I’m thinking…
“Be present,” I tell myself, and for a few sweet moments I am, until the thinks creep back in and I’m too in my head to notice the wave that is about to take me out.
And it’s not always life changing stuff that has me thinking so much, sometimes it’s the mundane, the small and insignificant. What starts out as a small thought in the morning is a full blown attack on the front lines of my mind by lunch. Perhaps this is often why I need a nap after lunch, not so much because of the food baby in my belly but because of the incessant thinking that has me exhausted.
I was recently picked up by a Lyft driver and after a few minutes of what was meant to be small talk he turned around and looked at me and said, “you’re very strange.” I laughed and said thank you in the form of a question. “I don’t mean it in a bad way,” he said, “I just mean that you’re cut from a different cloth and I’m trying to figure out what that cloth is.” I agreed that I myself was trying to figure out what that cloth was. “I can tell you’re a thinker,” he said, “a deep thinker.” I laughed and agreed that in fact I was, sometimes to a fault. “And you think differently than the rest of the world, but that’s a good thing,” he continued. “Until it isn’t,” I said.
“Well, it’s good until it’s dangerous because if you think on everything that gets thrown at you, you’ll end up confusing yourself.” I agreed with him and told him there was a lot I was definitely confused about. I told him I was confused by my own truths on top of people throwing their truths at me. I told him I felt lost. We talked for the next 20 minutes of our ride and by the time we arrived to where he was dropping me off I didn’t want to get out of the car. It felt more like he was taking me to church than a music festival. If there had been an altar call option in the Lyft ride I certainly would have gone to the front. That 20 minutes will certainly be a longer story for another day as it might have changed the course of my life in a way I didn’t see coming. So naturally, I tipped him.
“If you’re confused,” he said, “go back to the basics. The only way you can know the truth is to go back to the basics of knowing there is nothing you can do or learn or be in order to be loved, you already are. Once you know it is the One True God who loves you, you will know the One True God. And in knowing God, you know yourself. People keep trying to find themselves when they already are themselves. You are fully you and you are fully loved, it’s you who has to believe that.”
I shook his hand and told him I thought he was an angel. He said he could say the same about me, but I think I was too confusing to be an angel, plus I didn’t tip that good.
And so I’m trying to go back to the basics, in a lot of areas of life, like riding in the white wash knowing it’s not that impressive but it brings me joy…
But mostly I’m going back to the basics in realizing I can’t earn my worth or value, and no amount of praise is going to fulfill the love that I lack.
I choose joy. I choose freedom. I choose mastering the basics before trying so hard to figure everything out all the time just so I can feel worth something to somebody. I’m already loved. It’s me who has to believe that. And the same is true for you. You are already so very loved, should you have forgotten, just go back to the basics.
Oh, and should you need a ride somewhere, I recommend getting a Lyft.
Photos: Gary Linn