I Think I Thought a Lot of Things to Think About

Many days, I wonder if my entire life weren't all just inside my head. I worry that I get so wrapped up in thinking and worrying about all the things that are going on and all the things that could go on. But what could actually be going on if I weren't so busy thinking about the possibilities?

So much to consider. How does one find time to live? I try to see what things really are, what I percieve them to be and I wonder how much of a difference there is. I also think about relationships. There are relationships at present, and then what they could evolve into. Relationships that could be, and also those never ventured for. I consider my life at present. And I consider all the life options of where I could be headed.

So many roads. Can I really only travel one? I may have one life to live, but I like to appease myself by pseudo-living through countless other lives, to see what I think of them and to make sure I really do like how I'm living this one. Inside my head, I've done quite a bit of living and made some really different choices. The craziest things have happened! Many of them tragic. Many of them glorious. Many of them life-altering and consequential. Many of them profoundly meaningful.

And now that I think about it, I should probably have more of them be just plain, stinking, deliriously fun and fantastical. They're my thoughts, after all. I can do whatever I want with them. Isn't that the brilliance and beauty of daydreams anyhow? The fact that anything is possible in there even if it's not realistic out here? I'm kind of saddened I don't do that much. I'm always so realistic. Do you guys do that a lot? Or maybe, doing that makes one crazy. I don't know. Hmmm...

But alas, I digress, and am lost in thought again. Back to the topic at hand. All this thinking and day-dreaming and playing things out in my head causes me to wonder, on many occasion, if I don't live life in my head too much. I certainly used to. This habit of mine is a great deal to blame for my distraction through elementary school (indeed, life in my head was a lot nicer, at the time, than life outside of my head). And it is possible all that "in my headedness" also contributed to the D's and F's that subsequently plagued me. Woops!

But even now, significantly post-grammar school and many better grades later, it is very possible to live in my head so much that I unduly detract from the amount of fabulous living I could be doing. There's this unknown, unquantifiable amount of life potential never reached. All of it exists out of my head, with real action, with the one life I actually have that is going by me, speeding past me every moment. But that potential can't be captured unless I am willing to come OUTSIDE of my very full, overly busy, distracting, daydreamy little head.

I may have a disease. Yes, another one. The disease of the ever-questioning individual. Or maybe much worse -- I'm perpetually living as the shamefully, ever-undecided individual. Can one ask too many questions? Is there a cure? There are books and books about living and being in the present. It is possible that people who have read them and understand and know how to live completely in the present may have all the answers for me. Maybe I should read those books.

Inspite of my worry, much of me believes it is somehow useful to question, daydream, venture and think through things. Even through the absurd. That is why I do it (along with the fact I can't seem to stop). But it is possible I overindulge in this. What a quandary! The unexamined life is not supposed to be worth living. And yet, the overexamined life could be simply impossible to live!

Thinking about it, I still do quite a bit of living outside my head. But the potential to live even MORE on the outside is always appealing. And perhaps it's very possible. There are those crazy people who you meet who are 23 and have accomplished more than many 50 yr olds out there. And we all wonder, "How DID you do all that?" People have unlimited potential. I think. Maybe. Or maybe I would know if only I could stop thinking so much. How many people come out long enough to find out?