Mindful Fear

This is a rambling on of my thoughts about the fear human beings hold against their own minds.

Today I am afraid to write.

How funny is it that we can be so afraid of our own minds? I think about the "mind", and its wondrous structure. We can create imaginary lives in our minds'- lives so different than the ones we occupy in real life. Sometimes I even wonder if we actually live in those imaginary worlds and somehow manage to escape the relics of the tangible world outside of us. The world inside of our minds prolongs our being, and perhaps this is why I have spent so much time dreaming in broad daylight. When I was younger, I would close my eyes and see a picture of the world that I could love naturally and effortlessly- mostly at night. As I got older, I learned to dream with my eyes open- in fact, I can dream just about anything with my eyes open; and sometimes I catch myself smiling or laughing or even crying at the script of my imaginary world. Perhaps that is one of the many factors that makes the human mind such a fascinating, yet frightening  piece. The things that we create inside of our minds are so real and authentic to us that they can evoke such strong emotions. And without those emotions, the mind would have no energy. It would have no motivation or passion to create and form things.

I find myself at the mercy of my own mind a lot. Overthinking with worry and doubt, not thinking enough, with calmness and tranquility. I almost laugh at the mere thought of never facing the struggle of being caught in between these lovely devils. When the laugh is over, I begin to wonder if human beings ever really come to be comfortable with their minds, or if they simply just tolerate it and its foolish antics. I think that is what it is precisely- we just surpass our minds and pretend that they have no voice in our lives. It is almost the same as giving a screaming toddler a cookie just so he will be quiet. I believe that our minds speak volumes, and the voices are so magnified that one cannot help but to give attention to them; but we become sick, and tired- worn out and exhausted from deciphering our minds. I cannot help but to think about the moments that I have wrestled brutally with my own mind. Well, you might ask what it is that we fight about- you know, my mind and I? I am certainly not one to point any fingers, but she is a total control freak. She is always telling me that what I am or what I do is not good enough- in fact, she tells me that it is nowhere near acceptable; and I try harder to please her every time. She is a perfectionist, always aspiring to reach perfection- which leads me to my next adjective to describe her. She is unrealistic, always desiring the things that she will never be.

But what makes her so special to me?

She is special to me because she dreams, and I can never resist following her. Whether my eyes are open or closed, she colors my dreams vibrantly visible. When I can escape this outside world, I can go to my own world- the world that I have built. I have imagined a world where "goodbyes" do not exist, and everything makes sense there. And when I dream about it, I cannot help but to shed a hopeful smile.

Reviews

[Sync]

This made me wonder "Why is it that we're us and not someone else?". I really love these thought provoking thoughts that you just think of randomly...it's just so mystifying, intriguing, scary even.