Mind Babble: WHO THE Fx££%K AM I ? by matthew carlson

Mind Babble: WHO THE Fx££%K AM I ? by matthew carlson

I closed my eyes. Then tighter and listened. I could hear my footsteps on the sidewalk & the ‘click-click-click’ of the dogs toenails beside me…..Then the other sounds too; cars passing by on a busy street a block away, a whirling of some kind, a buzzing too, people talking, parents taking their kids to school on foot or on skateboard or trottinette. A dog barked, the leash pulled and i opened my eyes. Merdre (shit) ! I had almost walked into a tree. The mind babble was taking over – I was trying to shut the voices down with some meditation. while walking Foebbe and Fender – the guardians of my soul.

“What do i want?” I asked as I inhaled. The Chokra Center MP3 meditating files from Carlsbad California were on the computer I was using upstairs in my alcove where I was renting. I listened to it ALOT. I was getting better at meditating, but still the voices would take over – always before I’d realized it. The voices were thoughts of course, but were they mine? Did I think those thoughts before uttering them in my head or aloud in the streets? And was I any different from the multitude of people I saw daily who were muttering aloud to themselves? And I’m not talking about the ones hooked up to their phones actually talking to ANOTHER person either.

Sam Harris the very intelligent brain scientist/atheist and book author of ‘Letter To A Christian Nation’ and other unsettling books says we have no free will. Oh yea, and he wrote a book about that too. (‘Free Will’) He explains to us that we don’t have any (thanks Sam!) – that we’re all basically a bundle of DNA and constructed cells and imprinted memory stuff whereby we think we are creating our own thoughts, but it’s all a bunch of baloney: free will. Makes you want to kill yourself doesn’t it? Knowing that… Or at least stay on the couch with your smartphone in front of the TV (& Netflix) with a case of Pringles & beer next to you along with the ice cream waiting in the freezer of course.

But in spite of Sam’s wise and devastating words of advice (or lucidity) I still want to feel that I’m the captain of my ship. Somehow. But it’s not working for the moment. If my body is a ship, then it’s been out to sea for a long time in some kind of surreal storm. But not an open sea – a large container with a sea inside of it.

The voices have taken over once more, competing for my attention. I don’t know which one I should listen to first. If my thoughts had weapons, my head would be a bloody mess, a third world war of sorts where logic doesn’t count – never did. It was only to win, to be the victory thought. AND that would entail killing off the other thoughts that wanted to be THE ONE CONTROLLING THOUGHT.

Meditation time again. As you can see – not an option. If I wanted to stay sane (or at least give an outward appearance of sanity) then I would have to meditate. Deep breaths, one after the other. A virtual wand of my hand scatters the attacking mind babbling thoughts. “No more thoughts! Be gone you bastards!”

Back to breathing deeply: in and out, in and out. Then focusing on my physical being: toes, feet, ankles, shins, knees, thighs, buttocks, groin area, waist, lower back, chest & upper back, shoulders, neck, arms, elbows, wrists, hands, fingers,head, ears, eyes, temples, nose….Still breathing: In and out. In and out. Breathing to find myself once again. Those thoughts are not me. Not mine.

I am here. Standing next to this tree. Next to Foebbe and Fender. They are looking up at me wondering why we are STILL standing in the same place. It’s hug time. I bend down and tongues and lips and fingers & paws meet. Several hugs, kisses, belly rubs, head shakes, & pawing paws later, we are ready to walk some more.

I remind myself to keep breathing. “What do I desire?” I ask myself not waiting for an answer. The universe will answer soon enough. In the meantime I would go home and sing a song. Or maybe write another one.

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