Our brains go, go, go, go, go.
That’s good, in a way. We have a lot to do. Adulting is full of tasks and maintenance and thoughts that need thinking. We have to figure out insurance, taxes, mortgages, putting together Ikea furniture.
But we don’t just think about logistical matters and the optimal completion of tasks. We’re not robots. I’m convinced we all have our own unique version of nuttiness going on upstairs, too. My version is the constant scorekeeper in my head: I’m hyperaware of how much I’m doing and cleaning and picking up after everyone else in our house. I’m the hardworking victim of other peoples’ slobbery.
I’m a panicked traveler, too, and that one is a particular problem because my family lives far away. Travel is nonnegotiable. I need to do it.
Just this last weekend, for example, I flew to Iowa City to meet my new nephew.
I have the best sister in the world. I adore her, and her wife, and my parents (who also flew in from the Northeast), so I was eager to take this trip. I was also a ball of stress about it.
First, there’s the two COVID-19 tests I had to take and the several sources of exposure I’d had just that week. Then, the prep needed for my 2- and 3-year-olds while I’d be out of town for three days (the orchestrating that goes into trying to make things go as smoothly as possible for my husband while I’m away — is no joke). Then there’s my annoyingly persistent air travel angst, the weird combination of fear and sadness I feel when leaving my husband and kids, the discomfort of wearing two layers of masks on the plane, the adjustment of being out of my routine … I could go on.
I ultimately overcome all this, though, and very few people would ever know the chaos that goes within me when it’s travel-time, because here’s what I’ve learned: I need to ignore it.
I’ve come to basically accept the myriad of emotion and panic thoughts that accompany me in my travels. I don’t try to change that stuff or push it aside. “It’s okay, Marci,” “calm down,” “there’s no reason to be so worked up.” None of that makes a dent. So, I just let it be there. I say a prayer and then ignore my thoughts on the topic, as best I can.
The notion of ignoring one’s thoughts might sound counterproductive or unwise. But as far as I can see, the alternative is to either let them run the show (i.e., freak out and possibly never leave the house) or try to change my panic thoughts. The former would be a bummer and the latter doesn’t work. I’ve tried.
Trying to change ingrained thought patterns doesn’t ease burdens. It’s like trying to change feelings; attempts only add a few extra pounds of resistance to our heavy loads. In my experience, it’s better to just let those thoughts be there. Don’t feed in more, don’t resist. Just leave them alone. Ignore.
But again, not all thoughts warrant that bucket. The best rule of thumb I’ve found for which thoughts to set aside and which to go along with is this: ones that are inspiring, creative, kind, loving toward oneself or someone else, or at least generally useful or productive, are worth listening and attending to. Outside of that, ignore.
I think this touches into the essence of what genuine self-work is all about. Disciplining our minds and tending to our thoughts is some of the most crucial, potentially transformative work we can do.
There’s a really basic five-minute meditation on my website for increasing awareness of what’s happening in our heads. That’s where this work really starts. When we’re aware of our thoughts, we can discern which ones to listen to and which to disregard. That free recording is here.
We all have nuttiness going on in our heads. But maybe we don’t have to feel nuts, too.