Those Messy Thoughts

I can read palms.  (As soon as I was released from my time in Catholic school, I went searching for everything my school didn’t teach, and fortune-telling books are right next to the religious books in the library, and the public library I frequented as a teenager had a vast collection of fortune-telling books.)  On the palm, there is a line, that among other things, tells a reader how the person thinks.  The flatter the line the more linear the thinking.  1.2.3.  ABC.  One could read this person’s thoughts like a text book.  The more curve the line the more unique the thinking pattern was.  Only that person could follow the bread trail of thoughts to get to an answer.  This part of the reading was fascinating to hear how people described their thoughts and how they come up with conclusions.

Some people had Rolodexes and files.  One person saw numbers like a pattern.  (Guess if these people had flat or curved lines.)  I knew someone who saw numbers as colors.  Another person saw music as color.  One person could see someone’s face and remember everything about that person.  Some described paths or roads.  Others it was something out of Momento or Beautiful Mind. It was always fascinating.

I learned I had a myriad of ways of thinking.  I have files on people, cross-referenced here and there.  History is an island.  (Now I see it crumbling as I lose more information as I don’t use it or replenish it like I used to.)  Cities are miniture models.  Sight reading music or playing the organ is a math problem.  Math is a puzzle.  There are places in my mind like gardens, oceans, libraries, theaters.  Then there are lists.  Lists of what to do today and this week.  Lists of the major things.  Lists of what to buy.  Grocery lists.  Book lists.  Lists of ideas for crafts, presents, recipes.  At one point, they worked seamlessly.

Now.  I feel lost in a land of words and turns.  I stand paralyzed by the landscape in front of me.  I know the information, the answers, the stories are there, but they crowd in, demanding a voice.  Am I making much sense?

Last night I received the monthly budget.  There in my hands a world of choices.  Responsibility and security settled for the month.  Possibilities over menus, toiletries, gifts, entertainment, uses all danced in my hand.  But what to do first.  Which bills should be knocked out first?  What purchases need to be done now?  How do I frame the battle strategy?  I am frozen.

But as I wrote this, as I ran up and down stairs to turn Sesame Street back on after Tornado A had to push that bright green light button one more time, I realized I do have an answer.  I have to write it all down.  It was always been the answer from the escapes I needed in childhood, to dealing with the wild fires and hurricanes of the teen years, to the confusion and glory of those early years of adulthood, to the lists to focus my sleep-deprived brain of motherhood.  Write.  Write.  Write.  Then I could see and measure what needs to be done, building a battle plan.  Then I could let go of the daydreams that are starting to haunt my steps like they did in my childhood.  Then I could focus on here and now.

I think I’m going to need more paper.

Any one want to write how they think?

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4 Responses to “Those Messy Thoughts”

  1. Brea Says:

    I’ve always been sort of a “A to blue to 4 to pizza, so A=pizza” kind of gal.

    While reading this, I had to look at my hands to try to figure out which line you were talking about. And what I found, is that while almost all the lines on my hands are curved… the few that are the straightest, seem to be cracked – or just plain broken, stopping like a snapped toothpick, only to start again a stutter away.

    Guess my friends are right, I really am twisted and cracked!

  2. melissa.scholes.young Says:

    I write so I can breathe. I think you get that 🙂 My lists reveal my thinking. I’m always revising my lists, which is a way of reordering my life. It works for me. Sort of.

  3. zeemaid Says:

    Nowadays I write because I want to connect with other people. When I was younger I wrote to get it out, pour my heart out so to speak. Reading this post made me want to hunt up some of my old journals. The only problem when you write to connect with other people sometimes you worry more about how you’re explaining things (so as to not offend) than just getting it out. Sometimes I soften the hard edges. In the grand scheme of things, I think I’m like you in that laying it (decisions etc) all out on paper really helps to clarify everything. Really cool about the palm thing. So is your line curved or straight?

  4. beth reed Says:

    I have loved writing almost as much as reading, perhaps more.
    I worry about offending others, I worry about my lack of education standing out when it comes to topics that I should know about, and I sometimes wonder why I dont write more often even if it is just nonsense in a journel.
    Interesting that you read palms. It looks like all of my lines are curved. I dont think that makes me unique. Screwed up is more like it. Never sure just what it is that i am doing. That is why i keep lists a and calenders. Forgive my mistakes my phone is hard to post from. I
    my laptop charger caught fire yesterday so i am using my phone.


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