I live in my head.
Or so I’ve been told.
I didn’t realize it, until I realized it.
See, there’s a problem with living in your head. It’s kind of a lonely place… because you’re the only one in there.
The last week or so, I’ve been trying -like really focusing- on paying attention to what is around me. Utilizing senses… hearing, sight, touch. Taking notice. In groups I watch when people speak, their mannerisms, inflection, mood. Things I wouldn’t have noticed prior. I acknowledge where I fit in. How I fit in, where I could fit into the mix; where I could offer more to the conversation, situation, experience.
Seems weird that it would take me this long to figure it, out, huh?
My head is a space where I create the “way things are” or “are supposed to be.” A noun I am supposed to be happy/angry about, a verb that I am fearful or guilty of, or just simply, where I’m supposed to go in the future/where I was in the past. My head is a bean bag chair. A place to get cozy, and make myself at home.
And I live in my head in other ways. I dream of things, people, and places. Some that happen, some that don’t. I create agreements with people, agreements that I think are set by others, but have come to realize… maybe they aren’t? Maybe they are just agreements I’ve created for my own protection, for my own definition of that relationship- for control.
How many times a day do we live in our heads? And what are we missing out on by doing that?
When you live outside your head you no longer always set the rules. You can still have boundaries for yourself, but the rules, there are no rules. People and events outside of us aren’t created within us, we decide to make them our own and spin them how we want. If we step back, outside of our heads, and just observe and notice things for what they are instead of how we see them, a much larger world opens up that once never existed…. a world outside of your own mind.
Stepping into the actual world, looking at it wholly, is a really fascinating experience. It is a lesson in anthropology, an exercise in connection, and an enjoyable experience if you allow it to be.
I think that is also why I like yoga. It forces you to be present and in the moment… it’s very difficult not to when your limbs are screaming at you in funky poses. Being present IS living. It is being aware of yourself and those around you. Hearing their breath, hearing your own. Focusing on the now. Not the “what’s next”.
Today I got into my car, and instead of going straight into my thoughts, I took notice. I heard the conversation the guy had at the valet stand. I smiled at the lady walking in front of my car. I paid attention to the woman trying to sneak into my traffic-snarled lane, and allowed her in.
While it’s great to think about important things, decisions, positive thoughts about the future, dreams, wishes… it’s not place to constantly live. There’s so much more right in front of me. I’m taking notice and realizing, I’ve been missing a whole world out there… and it’s pretty fun to live in it.
ha haaaaa haaaa. There’s more than just a song stuck inside my head.