My mind never seems to stop. I wish there was a way to physically show you all the thoughts simultaneously spinning through my head.
I’m currently thinking about what I should have for lunch, what I should wear tomorrow on my first day at a new job, will people like me at my new job, how disappointed I was with the car wash I got yesterday, and thinking about the message I heard at church encouraging social justice (am I doing enough?).
My friend once told me her husband’s mind is like a dresser. He is able to open one drawer at a time and focus on the items in the drawer and then close it before opening a new one.
My mind is more like an overstuffed closet. Everything is on display all at once, plus all the things I should’ve gotten rid of are crammed onto the overhead shelf or in boxes on the floor. Not to mention there is a flickering light I should’ve fixed a few months ago but instead I just reflect on how annoying it is while doing nothing to change it.
Instead of focusing on one thing at a time, I swirl everything together at once.
One of the reasons I enjoy hiking, is because it often requires my mind to focus. I can’t be thinking about too many other things when I’m trying to figure out how to cross a mud pit without losing my boots.
My simultaneous thoughts are all related to the hike: How long will those flies continue to buzz around my head? How much farther until I get to the next road crossing? Where did I put my water bottle? What kind of animal scat is that?
Even preparing for my trips requires focus and lists as I calculate mileage and plan exactly where I’ll park, where I’ll drop off my bike and how I’ll get from one point to the next. I plan out if I have to pack a lunch or if there is a place I can stop nearby. I’ll plan out exactly what I need to wear and what I should bring along just in case.
A few weekends ago, I went hiking with my sister-in-law and niece. It’s rare for me to hike with other people and this was a welcome break to my solo adventures. We hiked over 17 miles together from St. Croix Falls to Luck, Wisconsin. On the second day of hiking, my 13-year-old niece came up with a game for us to play to pass the miles. We had to name a song that started with every letter of the alphabet and sing as much as we could. The letters K, Q, and X nearly stumped us; however, I’m quite proud of coming up with “Zippity Doo Da” for our finale as the car came into sight. This hike was one of the fastest I've ever done. The miles seemed to fly by.
When I’m on my own it’s more challenging to come up with mental games. My focus tends to be on my sore muscles, the incessant buzzing of bugs, or my frustration with muddy sections of the trail.
Sometimes I’ll narrate letters I want to write or stories I should put on paper. Unfortunately, by the time I’m home, showered, and in front of paper, I’m usually too tired to write anything out.
This past week, I went on a 4-day solo hiking weekend. The trail conditions were less than ideal. So. Many. Bugs. There were a lot of detours around swampy pits and fallen trees. I had to cross numerous unsteady log “bridges” to keep from drowning in mud. And because of the recent rainfall, I was very much aware of the fresh bear tracks that I hiked alongside. Some of my hikes ended in tears, as I felt claustrophobic from all the waist-high underbrush that crowded my every step and the bugs that swarmed my head.
By the time I arrived home, my mind was more exhausted than my body.
Yesterday after finishing chores that had been neglected while I was gone, I sprawled on my couch to watch a movie and woke up 6 hours later.
I think it was my mind’s way of simply saying, “stop.”
