Train of thought

More often than not, what I’m thinking doesn’t totally match up with what comes out of my mouth (or my pen, or my fingers as I type away). I don’t trust my train of thought to make sense, so I pause, and wait, and try to untangle what I’m thinking; but I think something gets lost in the translation from brain wave to speech or the written word. I often think I’ve communicated more than I have. or differently than I have. I think my words drip with meaning and double entendres and context when they drip instead with everyday wash water as they emerge squeaky clean from the tub of my mouth, free of any of the dark stains I imagine upon them.

I think I’m less of a try-hard in my head, pre-communication. I think, maybe, that my poetic thoughts only emerge half-formed, so the other half always feels a little forced. A little farced. Farcical? Farced is definitely not a word, but surely the context is clear enough here.

I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done with this.. communication problem. I’m not sure it’s even a problem. It can be, especially if I expect I’ve conveyed something I haven’t. But it isn’t necessarily; it isn’t by its very nature an issue. Sometimes less is more. Sometimes more is just noise.

Kind of ironic, then, that I’m happily blogging up a storm, generating more noise in my private little corner of the internet.

It’s indicative of the mental process, though, isn’t it? My internal dialogue doesn’t really stop for much, ever. So might as well keep on blogging away.

Smol reminder though, Shannon - practice listening without interjecting my own private responses in the midst of the dialogue. Just. Listen. (Maybe also meditate. I feel like maybe that’s a better way to describe quieting the mind. Don’t worry so much about tamping down the mental diatribe. Just practice listening.)