Thinking
It’s a classic scenario. I was out on a stroll with my boyfriend and after a few minutes of silence I asked him what he was thinking about, he said, “Nothing.”
How can that be?
Isn’t the mind always busy? Isn’t there always something going on up there? Even if it’s thoughts about the mundane. I don’t believe there is nothing.
Needless to say we didn’t date for long.
These days I am constantly looking at people and wondering what they are thinking about. What is their running commentary? Are the thoughts happy? Are they sad? Is it pondering the past or hope for the future?
I don’t know why I want to know, but I do. Especially the people I see out on their own. What the hell are they thinking about?
This has become my little obsession.
In a world where we have become so connected and crowded the only place that is truly our own is inside our heads. It’s the place where you can love and hate and fantasize and believe every possibility. We can stream our own private movies.
I know my mind is always full. And no one gets complete access.
Odd that these days my mind is often filled with questions about others. Can I look into a face and get a hint of what lives inside. I don’t think so, but I keep trying. And on rare occasions I’ll ask what they’re thinking about. The answer is usually, “Nothing.”
I don’t believe that.
So, what are you thinking about?
And please don’t tell me it’s, “What, Tricia had a boyfriend???”
Move on.
I’m sure you have better things to think about than that.
Lately I am spending a lot of time thinking about death, mortality, what is truly of value, where and how I spend my time, family, friends, relationships, endings. And I find myself spending more time appreciating the leaves and the flowers all around me, the sky, the clouds. Feeling a little day dreamy most of the time, a lovely space to be in.
I’m a “one-box” male. My answer to “What are you thinking about?” would be…I’m thinking about your question, “What are you thinking about?”