Sweetbriar
06-19-2005, 19:32
It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then -- to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What exactly are we really doing here?" One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me even more to think about.
I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed, "I've been*thinking..."
"I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It is serious," she said, her lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"
"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.
"I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door.
I headed for the library, in the mood for some Kierkkegaard. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors. They didn't open. The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Great Power was drawing me toward it that night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for just a taste of Aristotle, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It was one of those Thinker's Anonymous posters. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a video exercise about not thinking; last week it was "Smoky and the Bandit." Then we share experiences about how we abstained from thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed...easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I know the road of recovery is long and hard, and it never ends. There will be temptations to think all around me every day of my life. But with the support of all my non-thinking friends, and taking things one day at a time, I know it’s possible for me to never think again.
*Adapted from unsourced internet email 6/10/05
(lrd, I heard this.... and thought of you! :D )
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What exactly are we really doing here?" One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me even more to think about.
I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed, "I've been*thinking..."
"I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It is serious," she said, her lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"
"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.
"I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door.
I headed for the library, in the mood for some Kierkkegaard. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors. They didn't open. The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Great Power was drawing me toward it that night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for just a taste of Aristotle, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It was one of those Thinker's Anonymous posters. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a video exercise about not thinking; last week it was "Smoky and the Bandit." Then we share experiences about how we abstained from thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed...easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I know the road of recovery is long and hard, and it never ends. There will be temptations to think all around me every day of my life. But with the support of all my non-thinking friends, and taking things one day at a time, I know it’s possible for me to never think again.
*Adapted from unsourced internet email 6/10/05
(lrd, I heard this.... and thought of you! :D )