I think myself into a quandary often. It’s a built in aspect of my nature and character to do so. It is not my favorite aspect because its extremely hard for me to control. I’m still learning to master it and it has been exhausting life long work. You can never run from yourself so, here I am thinking, thinking, thinking.
What am I thinking about that has me mired? The usual suspects: feelings and emotions, wild and turbulent always. I’m emotionally built like a volcano or an unexpected storm. I can not really remember if I was ever any other way. There is no mold for me, no fit, nothing that holds my heart into place…I’d like to fancy myself an element that took human form and this is why I’m always so restless. Along with my turbulence came a fantastic imagination–a consolation prize, I guess.
Since I’ve received no new answers from within and none from without, what do I do now? And here it is: thinking. Always, thinking, thinking, thinking.