Wednesday, July 28, 2010

A Hard Way to Go

There’s always a simple way. And then there’s a difficult way. Whatever the task, you always have two choices – you can do it the hard way or the easy way. Luckily for me and my totally indecisive manner, this is one choice I don’t have to make. I ALWAYS, purely instinctively, with little to no conscious consideration, choose the hard route. That’s just how it is. It’s as if I must 100% wrestle with an issue/task/challenge until I have knocked the wind out of it, leaving it lifeless, and sometimes, virtually unworthy of consideration, i.e., by the time I’m done grappling with said issue, I can’t even remember why it was issue in the first place. Sounds like a vicious cycle, right? Trust me, it is. Analytical minds have their value, but on daily living kinda basis, sometimes it’s just downright annoying. I often can not make quick decisions, spontaneity is usually non-existent, and even blogging takes a hit as I analyze everything I almost post and often decide it’s not blog-worthy or it would take too long to write or (the dreaded thought) would people even read such a post? Really, my constant wrestling match even applies to “the small stuff.” (Thank you Dr. Carlson, your book did not help me. All “stuff” IS big stuff.) One especially troubling task that should be a relatively simple, daily process often becomes an unbearable, downright painful process that periodically leads to an all-out meltdown: choosing my clothes. Now I know this is in fact an issue for most women, especially during that wonderful, magical time of the month, but I tend to think I may take it a tiny bit far at times. Michael will testify to this. I’ve recently read/heard about experiments that prove that fewer choices can lead to contentment because with only a small selection of items, the mind doesn’t get boggled with other possibilities. It sounds genius to me, and I may have to do some more closet-purging. Allow me to remind you though, that all of my analyzing, pondering, scrutinizing, is mainly a subconscious action.

I was so astounded when we saw Inception – while I’m not speaking of dreams per se, I was thrilled to my core that the power of the subconscious must make sense to other people too! Maybe I’m not crazy after all. So I’ve decided to put a positive spin on it, (while CONSCIOUSLY making more of an effort to NOT dissect every little thing) and title my own condition: we’ll just call it a Carnival of Consideration running wild behind my eyes. At least with a cool, fun name, it won’t be so troubling. Or will it…