thinking time

occasionally, it’s good to take some time to do nothing but think. it’s a chance to curl up inside your own head. you can be creative, exercise your imagination, work through a problem, relive a past glory, juggle ideas or float away on a daydream.

but there exists a fine line between time to think and thinking time. because one is healthy and helpful, and the other quickly morphs into something seductive, destructive and counter-productive.

unlike time to think, thinking time often happens when you’re sick, or bored, or unemployed, or lonely, or sad, or otherwise in a head space not conducive to conjuring whimsical thoughts of joy and happiness and rainbows and cake.

thinking time arrives innocently enough, usually tiptoeing into your awareness at night, when the world is quiet and you’re alone with your regrets.

at first, thinking time seems like a harmless enough thing. you might even mistake it for time to think. so, you loiter in it for a while to ponder your existence. to look over your life. to wonder about your future. to rewind and replay events in the increasingly unforgiving cinema of your memories.

but therein lies the peril. when you dwell in thinking time too long, you start to count your flaws. you itemize every mistake, every shortcoming, every unrealized dream and every way in which you think you just didn’t measure up. you willingly obsess over “what went wrong?” or “how did it happen?”, or you play with a perpetual loop of what ifs.

thinking time tries to convince you that the glass is half-empty, that there's nary a single silver lining to any of the clouds in your sky, and that you are nothing more than the sum of all your defeats.

when you wade too deeply in the mire of thinking time, every critical thought you’ve ever had about yourself bubbles to the surface until you’re eye-deep in a swamp of self-condemnation. the weight of the disappointment and blame you place on your own shoulders makes you sink even farther until you're swallowed whole.

wandering alone in the sweeping desert of thinking time, it’s easy to get lost. epic dunes of past failures camouflage the horizon, and the endless plains of contrition seem to stretch out to infinity before you.

i have lost countless hours to thinking time. it’s consumed me before, gnawing away at my self-confidence and motivation, and leaving me to fester in its bowels.

if left unattended and unbroken, thinking time can very easily, very subtly become a siren, luring you to its suffocating embrace. but a steadfast refusal to succumb to its familiar song, and a willingness to accept your own foibles and fabulousness equally (sometimes punctuated by a swift but simple metaphorical kick in the head from someone who cares) can magically free you from its clutches in an instant.

i’m learning. i'm noticing more quickly when i’m slipping into its all-too-comfortable arms. i'm starting to bob and weave to elude its grasp. i’m getting better at fighting off its visits, and cutting short the length of its stays.

and i feel stronger each time i escape unscathed.