There’s a song written and performed by Steve Forbert that my parents used to listen to; one that in so many ways describes my dad as I knew him growing up. If you read the lyrics, you may think it uncharitable of me to say. I don’t think so because I see myself in it too. It’s called “Thinking”:
Well don't you go thinkin' and thinkin' and thinkin' and
Thinkin' so much 'til you're stranded behind
Don't you go thinkin' and thinkin' and thinkin' and
Thinkin' so much till you're losin' your mindThere's so many depressions all plowed in your brain
Trace 'em too far and they'll drive you insane
You're twisted so tight now, you hardly can talk
Get out in the daylight and go for a walkRefrain
All the tension inside has gone through to your face
You're flashin' your madness all over the place
You stand in the hallway an' try to explain
I look in your eyes, I see shackles and chains, awRefrain
You're chasin' some notion you've misunderstood
You're tryin' so hard, can't you tell it's no good?
You analyzed everything into a 'No'
You're falling apart, you got nothing to showRefrain
The nature and habits handed down by a genetic and otherwise inherited history are mysteries. From my perspective of 46 years on, they seem mighty difficult to break. For some traits, this may be a good thing. With others, it may be the cause of much suffering and stumbling.
Thinking can be a never-ending stall. There’s always another aspect to contemplate, previously considered angles to re-explore, and the need to pause in case something you haven’t thought of comes up. Considering all your options is quite simply endless, never leading to an action, decision or conclusion. The world moves on and you’re still sitting there thinking about what you might or could or should do, perhaps, maybe.
Sometimes the easiest way to resolve the problem is to not ever decide, and just let life’s circumstances and other people’s will carry you along and determine your future. Or to just say no to everything and stay right where you are. The devil you know, and all that.
Is it, at heart, a lack of bravery? an insufficiency of personal will? a shortage of direction? a general “go with the flow” that morphs into “I’m but a cork bobbing on turbulent seas”?
There’s a reason The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock is one of my absolute all-time favorite poems.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
and
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
So here, I present you with the object causing me so many swirling thoughts and so much anxiety.
and
We received the electronic documents to make our offer today. I had to look away and hold my breath while clicking “submit.”
I used to have ~ similar dreams, often. They were very disturbing - I felt a kind of claustrophobia from being in a very narrow twisting staircase that lead to a very small tight fitting doorway that lead somewhere else that I needed/wanted/had to be. There was barely room to turn around to get down. And I had great difficulty going forward. I can still almost picture the space.
I used to think that it was a real memory of one of the many farm houses we lived in as children, and I would try to figure out which house had this tiny staircase....
This dream always gave me a sense of panic, and I always woke up feeling very afraid. I don't remember ever resolving the state I found myself in in my dream.
It happened often in the past, but I can't connect it to anything in particular. Thankfully, since I am not aware of dreaming it recently, maybe I have found the right passageway. ??? Time will tell, I suppose.
It it feels right, then it is.