I feel like writing this morning, although, about what I'm not sure.
I did have an idea as I drifted off to dreamland last night, a land full of bizarre reactions to bizarre situations, that made me proud in that I was able to implement the idea successfully. Here's what happened:
There were moments throughout my life, as I suppose there were for everybody who has lived long enough to reflect, that I don't particularly want to revisit in my thoughts; embarrassing moments of distressing stupidity, clumsiness, insensitivity, wrong actions, etc. And yet, on those night when sleep eludes me, it is those moments that pop up with the clarity of a technicolor, 3D, surround sound movie to replay in the theater of my mind. WTF! I can't change them now. I don't have a time machine. Is there a purpose for these thoughts beyond reminders of, and additional punishment for, my past misdeeds? Well anyway, I lay there rehashing the moment when I verbally lashed out at a friend for - now I can't even recall what- and lost that friend as a friend and it occurred to me that I didn't have to have these thoughts; that I was the master of my thoughts and not the other way around. The idea I then had was to move off from the thoughts and view them from afar so that I could write about, journal-ize them, if you will, and that is exactly what I did. I began to mentally write about the incident from an objective journalistic perspective and I wasn't at all deep into the story before I found myself shooting jumpers from the top of the key off passes from my sons and swishing every one! I was in dreamland for sure then, because in reality I was only good for about seven out of ten. Okay six.
I'm not sure this is a permanent cure for my occasional bouts of insomnia, but I hope so. As I have noted before, a good night's sleep is worth its weight in gold. How much a good night's sleep weighs is another question. One I'll have to sleep on.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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4 comments:
I smell a self-help book worth millions in the making.
I know that was a dream because I never passed the ball more than 3 times without taking a shot myself.
Small selves need help.
Being a gunner runs in the family.
A smart solution, Pops! It's like when we're meditating, and we focus on a sensation in the body (say, a knee that's hollering at us), and as soon as we place the mind on the sensation, it fades.
The thing I think is hard is placing the mind on something without fixating on it.
I usually begin with mindful motives and then before I know it, I'm going over and over my thoughts obsessively like a cow chewing cud.
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