Backroom Thinking

I’ve been having arguments with my inner voice.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been favoring background music over the white-noise generated by talk radio, audio books, and television. I’ve been giving myself room to think.

At least that’s what I thought I was doing. In truth, I wasn’t doing much thinking. Instead, I was attempting to open the door to my subconscious and trying to steer the boat from the back. But that back room is a dark and crowded place; in there, it is easier to catch smoke than it is to pin down a thought.

And trying to run things from back there is like walking through a pitch-black room where the furniture is constantly moving and invisible gnomes take turns alternatively kicking you in the shins and nibbling on your calves (in an uncomfortably arousing way). Running things from back there leads to frustration and confusion; and if you get stubborn enough not to back off, you’re more than likely going to blow a fuse.

All of which didn’t stop me from trying to do so.

Today, I finally resigned myself to closing that door (well, I did leave it cracked). So now, I am back in the front room. My voice, here, is much clearer. It lives only in the present (but can artfully consider both past and future). It is roomier in the front, and well-lit.