We are they thinking

‘I think therefore I am’ was the basis of Descartes’ philosophy. That if you stop thinking you will die. However, this evolved into suggestions by new age thinkers that the awakened

consciousness, doesn’t necessarily require thought to exist.

The theory of conscious awareness, as we all know, came to the west from Buddhist traditions. Preaching the bliss of the present moment. To break free from the never ending dialogue of the mind and give space for peace and calm. To escape... from what?

... The ego ofcourse.

However, I wouldn’t want to undermine the importance of the ego, how it helps form our individuality. What makes you, you. But what about us? The collective thought, the collection of our ancestry, our cultural being. How we came upon this earth to share our meaningful experiences with one another.

As I think about the collective and how this has been stripped from our daily lives, brings about angst. And it consumes...

Huh? But...

Should I buy that jacket?

Consumption, that’s all this is about isn’t it? Why? Why am I so consumed by this chatter? Why am I always injected with what I should consume and how much of it? Wait..

What did I eat today? I should eat that salmon. I read somewhere that it’s good for the brain. I should read that book by Deepak Chopra. What was it called again? The super brain. Yes, I should fulfil my passions and reach my full potential. Compete against my rivals. Survival of the fittest right?

Or am I just afraid? Afraid of finding my own truth? Or accepting the truth of this world.. Maybe it’s not all about me.. why am I so selfish?

Echoes

"...I wouldn’t stay in that company if I were you"

‘‘If I were you?’’ I thought. Interesting choice of words.

Listening conversations of strangers. Is it still eaves dropping if you can hear?

At this point I really did feel like an extra in someone else's story. Memories of sonder, when observations was all I did. Now I am in my thoughts, sifting through the twigs and branches, the overgrown forest, hoping to reach the evergreen oasis, which often times doesn’t last for too long. That's the pessimist in me.

I guess the aim is not so much silence but to guide the chatter of the mind. Often times we think we’re thinking, we are actually listening. Imagine having coffee with yourself, how would you like you to speak to you? That is similar to how ones thinking should be.

Easier said than done.

Once a trigger occurs, a trance of thoughts begins. Some over thinkers can often blank out and comeback to realisation once the thought process is done or when they’ve registered what is happening in the immediate moment. Stay present. One could compare it to being woken up from a dream like state. Glitches in the mind, moving from past to future, future to past and sometimes major events and stories of what ifs and whys and narratives that are mere... fugazi.

In the minds eye there are infinite possibilities. Heaven or hell? You choose.

Even when writing, my stream of consciousness is often interrupted as you may have witnessed in previous chapters. Moments of clarity mixed with moments of repetitive overthinking produced Innerhthoughts. I'm sure a few of you can relate to this way of living. If you're an over-thinker like myself, start with...

Damn!

What was I thinking about again?

oh yeah...

They always add the music in post production. I wonder what they’ll choose?

Perspective

Wait, what did you just say? Say that again

That was weird

Making my way back from the various items of living I might have indulged in during the course of the day. The moon has taken over from the sun as the bringer of light. As I boarded the public transport, various eyes were upon me Instantly. Composure was required as I made way through the aisle looking for safety in an empty space. The walk was long indeed, both my feet dragging as though they were cast in concrete, hands steadily reaching

in front to grab onto metal poles, slow and perilous was this short but long journey, my eyes forward, although I could hear the eyes of my fellow passengers speaking.

I heard the whispers all too well...

‘‘Look at him...’’

‘‘What is he wearing...’’

‘‘I wonder what he’s thinking...’’

‘‘What I’m I going to eat tonight?...’’

They were all too loud. Finding safety in a corner seat, I sat and pondered deeply. Was there something on my face? Another glance down the aisle, I noticed the eyes I heard were consumed with their mobile devices, reading or simply staring into space.

It was all in my head.