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My recent Xtreme Treks into Obsessive Thought Territory illuminated a major coverup front. I lived under the impression I had achieved automatic thought release, only to discover a ruthless tyranny of obsessive thought loops disguised as silly pandering. For example, I learned my unwashed dishes triggered obsessive worry about attracting sugar ants, and I had to focus on constant redirect, which ate into my writing space. And, when I washed the dishes, I switched to anxious alert, with each scrub and scour reassuring me I was going to be OK. Walking across the floor, I obsessively search for dirt that needs cleaning. I tear off a paper towel sheet and obsess about running out and having to buy more.
I retreat into musing on my projects, especially ways to crack code, hack patterns, and design sustainable story reset. But, if I'm not careful, every action is underscored with a critical categorization of ridicule and scoffing. Everywhere I go, my inner chorus sings passion songs of self-doubt and shame. I can see strong links between musing and disassociation. I've learned the art of intentional musing in which I remain open and curious and meet myself where I am instead of cutting off my vision before it starts.
Rumination is another word that means thinking deeply about something. But, I associate it with obsessive thought loops. What-ifs spin under my rat-footed mind. What if, what if, what…there are endless pictures to choose. I do what I can to hear the rhythm and express the motion with hand and arm gestures. I put in a piano riff here and…
