Did you ever wish you could just turn off your brain? Turn it off completely and take a rest from it … even for a day, an hour? Sometimes I feel it would be nice to have a break, to pack it off on holidays and have some quiet time. Time away from the constant overanalysing, the rattle of thoughts that vie for your immediate attention, the noise that clouds over purpose and decision. The ever present inner voice that causes doubt and indecisiveness. We all have an outer facade, what people see us as, and it can be so far removed from the truth.
I’m happy, confident, responsible. I’m doing a masters, writing a book, raising a family and doing it seemingly without a care in the world, solid and certain in the path I have chosen, in the decisions I have made…sometimes. Other times I am dissecting every interaction, every text, worrying about how I come across, wondering if I sounded like a fool, questioning what people meant by those words, or that action. I have the words in my head, can put them in the right order on paper and express my thoughts eloquently (no giggling now!) but, when it comes to speaking, to expressing an opinion they can get jumbled and I know I’m not getting my message across. I try not to offend, not to say the wrong thing and am in awe of people who seem to speak their mind. I never take offence when someone is direct and strong in their sentiments but often worry when I do the same. Do you ever have those moments when you’re chatting away and suddenly you become aware that people are listening to you, and panic? Then you falter and finish what you’re saying quicker and more incoherently than you wanted to? (Sweet jesus I hope at least one of you gets what I’m saying and I’m not the only looney left on the farm!)
I’m a hoarder. Hoarder of thought and hurts. I keep it in, bite my lip and let it go. But, in truth, I never really let it go. I store it in the musty filing cabinet in the dark corner of my brain, the part that fuels the minions of doubt. My head is a minefield and there are days when I will float above it, never doubting my ablility, strong in my self-belief. Then there are the days when I’m thrashing through it, like a dispraxic elephant on roller skates, setting off every explosive device in sight. And on these days I still have my outer facade fully in tact for everyone … bar one. That poor one sees me warts and all. Listens to my out of nowhere rants and ravings and has to fight battles to be heard or understood. Watches me silently and angrily beating around the house, completely in the dark as to why I’m mad. That one scooped me up in his arms all those years ago when the world crashed down on my castle walls, and kept me safe.
And this morning as I crossed the bridge into the University, the sun warming my face, I thought of that one. And I felt alive and good but, also a little sad. Good because I’m blessed and sad because I sometimes don’t appreciate that one enough. We can get so caught up in ourselves, in our thoughts and worries that we oft don’t see the beauty and grace that is right in front of our eyes. Why is it that we treat the ones we love the most, the worst? That one, has never questioned what I’m doing. That one is the ever constant voice of support, that fully believes in the greatness that I feebly hope to achieve.
So for that one I’m offering these words. Sadly not my words but how I wish they were.
Love can make you ask some funny questions now and then
But just remember the alternatives for I remember when
I was lonely and unhappy
And my lips were cold as ice
But you kissed me and good heavens
Now I’m here in paradise
So if ever I’m not kissing you or looking in your eyes
I won’t be blind and I won’t cry
I’ll look up high and gladly sigh
And thank the guy
Who puts the rainbow in the sky?
Who lights the stars at night?
Who dreamt up someone so divine?
Someone like you and made them mine?
(Galileo, Declan O’Rourke)