Quietening our noisy brains

 

Do you remember how it was when you had young children (if you did)? When you are driving the children in the car you can get into that "Ooh, look at the cows/sheep/lovely house" loop. You see something and you point it out. Children seem to like it when they are three or four, but they get decidedly cool on it by the time they reach eleven (and may in fact have earphones in to render your comments moot (or mute)).

But the takeaway that I would like to consider is the strange process by which things that you see turn into things that you say. It seems strangely automatic, a bit Pavlovian. Or maybe it is just me, and other people could see a sheep at that time and keep their counsel. It feels like my brain (and my mouth) just can't stop reacting to things, almost without me wanting them to. I do suspect that I am not the only person whose brain does this. 

I am reminded of this now when I think about what things spring into my mind (as it seems to me) when I walk through the world (whether real or virtual) as a 66-year old whose children are now grown and flown. It does feel as if my mind has a desire to spring into life in response to what I see, what I hear, what I remember, what I wonder. It all feels a bit impulsive and noisy, and I now start to look for those moments when my mind is stiller and less noisy. 

You can of course try to your 'stilling' proactively. Meditation has been a thing for a long time even here in the West, and as I understand it the idea of mindfulness does also involve some conscious stilling of our thoughts. Sometimes I hear a psychological analysis describing 'intrusive thoughts' and I think "well all of them can be intrusive sometimes, even the good ones!". It is like having a friend who will not shut up. And even though our minds can give us great joy, it is the idea that our minds are not part of our body that makes them irritating upon occasions. They are a part of our body, but somehow convince us that they are inherently different from the rest of our corporeal nature. They are like an entitled person who talks over others and just expects to be listened to. 

There are of course times when we notice a natural stilling of the mind brought about by where we are or what we are doing. When I play music I find that the physical and neurological act of playing is very good at filtering out everyday thoughts. Some people get the same result from physical activities such as swimming or yoga or walking out in the countryside. The rhythm of the activity gets you into a 'zone' where your thoughts take on a different hue or even seem to disappear completely.

You can sometimes get this effect while doing nothing, but when doing nothing in a particular environment. Some people find churches or places of worship to be very restful and balancing for their psyches. I accidentally found such a 'stilling' place when I went camping by the seaside. I had got into the habit in previous years of getting up very early to read on the deserted beach as the waves seethed up the shingle in their steady, predictable rhythm. I loved reading at that time. Then I tried the same thing this year and put the book down for a while. I found that I absolutely loved just sitting there and doing nothing and thinking very little. It was as if the environment was its own source of calm, allowing my brain to free itself from the daily grind of reacting to the world around me and the world inside me.  

My feelings about our brains (and my own in particular) is that they are very useful in all the things that they can help us do, but they have a habit to take over life in a way that is not useful. The idea of this 'voice' in our heads seems at best a useful fiction and at worst a distraction from the very nature of our existence. But sometimes life is much brighter and more enjoyable when we convince our brains to just shut up for a few minutes.