I’ve Been Thinkin’ Way Too Much
Confession: I am an overthinker.
I used to think this was my superpower. I can dream up innovative solutions to any sticky situation! I can explore endlessly fun future possibilities in my mind. I can escape the body-crushing agony of a hard workout by imagining that I am a hardcore warrior princess training to defend my people.
Unfortunately, the more time that has gone on, the more that my powerful imagination has reared its ugly underbelly: anxious spiraling.
This unfortunate process involves imagining all the worst case-scenario outcomes for every situation to ever exist, i.e. my relaxing bath with lavender essential oil is ruined by a life-altering earthquake. (Yes, this thought has actually crossed my mind while drawing a bath). In a matter of minutes, my gift can become my kryptonite.
So, where to go from here? How do I redeem my imaginative powers to their former sanguine glory?
I suppose I need a bit of training––something along the lines of mental rehabilitation exercises. Now, before I get into the suggestions I’m making for myself, let me be clear in stating that I have absolutely no formal training and my advice might be wack. But here’s what I came up with:
1. Only input positive content.
In essence: all the books, shows, movies, music, and stories I engage with will have a mostly uplifting vibe. Now, this is one that I get a lot of pushback on. I’ve had critics tell me that I shelter myself a bit too much.
However, my response is that this is a very personal choice, because I happen to be more sensitive than most. They can continue to watch horror movies, and I can continue to not join them. Also, I am nuanced in my selection of what I abstain from. Movie about climate change where they tell me the world is ending and everything is hopeless? Skip. Movie about climate change where they highlight all the efforts people are making to protect our planet and encourage citizens of the world to take up the mantle of this fight? I’ll watch it.
Furthermore, I stand by my conviction that sheltering your mind does not automatically translate to emotional naivete. I choose other ways to engage the darker side of my emotions––a healthy cry, a languid journaling session, a midnight conversation with a trusted confidante. These practices allow me to feel deeply and return to myself before continuing on with my day.
2. Don’t take myself too seriously.
I convinced myself that my chicken was raw and I have food poisoning? Hilarious. So silly of me.
I’ve decided I’ll start thinking of my own mind as a little Pixie Hollow-esque fairy sprite that, while lovely and magical, sometimes plays tricks on me. She is mine, but she is not all of me. She is neither good nor bad; she just likes to fly around and sprinkle pixie dust on whatever is in close proximity to her. Sometimes she pulls a magic-carpet moment and we fly around a sky full of stars. But she loves attention, and sometimes she turns the shadows into monsters to get a reaction.
It is my responsibility to decide how much attention I pay to her and her antics. And I know that not reacting to the bad stuff will make her do it less.
3. Divert most of my imagination powers to fun projects.
I’m already doing this a bit, but I’d like to do it more. If I’m busy concocting a magical imaginary world of castles and monsters and unlikely friends, I won’t have any energy leftover to worry about anxious nonsense. And this sounds like a very appealing outcome, indeed. We’ll see how well it works.
• • •
While I hope you don’t suffer from my same mental maladies, I’m sure I am not alone in my plight. I conclude by once again stating that my suggestions are in no way a substitute for professional help (or the comfort of a kind friend).
Go forth and be happy, friends. There are so many lovely things to meditate upon.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Philippians 4:8
