Out of Your Mind

For those of us who overthink everything, who ruminate, who infuse everything with meaning--even toenails or pencils or acorns--and who insist on diagnosing and fully understanding our rapidly shifting internal states, I suggest getting out of the mind. 

Sort your sock drawer and do not make it an allegory about marriage. 

Weed the vegetable garden and just pull weeds; don't think about sin or anything corroding the soul.

Bake cookies. Just bake cookies.

Don't take a bath. Baths make you think. 

Scrub all the toilets. You can't think about anything else but the toilets.

Repair something that's broken--an actual, physical broken thing (Not your heart! Not your hurting heart!)

Go deliver chocolates to a neighbor. Then listen to her for however long she needs to talk. Don't interrupt. Just listen. 

Then, watch a comedy on television. Don't analyze the jokes. Just laugh.

Listen to music; dance with children; pick wild flowers. 

Find some animals to brush or walk. 

There, now. You are truly out of your mind.