I Just Wasn’t Thinking

Note:  Before I jump into today’s post, I want to give a heartfelt thanks to those who submitted their conversion stories, and all those who participated last Sunday in the 5th International Hug A Convert Day. Any day in which that much goodness goes out to the world, I consider a very good day. Thanks!

I just spent a week trying not to think. Really.  (I should explain, because some of you probably think that is nothing new for me.)

Last week, our youngest left for Provo to attend EFY at BYU. Yes, we achieved the coveted status of “Empty-Nesters” for a week. So we did what normal people do when it is 118 degrees outside: We left. We loaded up the car and headed for the beach. Granted, there is more to it than just “loading up the car.” There are tons of arrangements at work, church and home that need to be resolved and knocked them out, freeing us up for an entire week on the beach in San Deigo.

Just the two of us. (Cue Bill Withers.)

My intention was to relax, and decompress. To just “get it the zone.”  You know  the “Curly Zone: ‘I’m trying to think, but nothing happens.”  (link)  Many of you know that it not always as easy as you might think. Life is busy. There is much to do, and much to think about. But I did my best to be mindless.

First, I sat on the beach and began reading a great book by Michelle Wilson – but about halfway through, I started thinking about how it might apply to me, and how I might better my life — so back in the bag it went.  Then I picked up the latest offering by The Arbinger Institute, which, from the get go, started trying to alter the way I look at the world and interact with other people — so back in the bag it went. (I’ll finish them both later and report back.)

I found the most success in staring mindlessly into the ocean as I watched the hypnotic waves breaking and rushing up the sand in front of me. It took a while, but I eventually got to the point where I could sit there, stare, drift off to sleep, wake up, go for a walk, fall back asleep — all without stumbling or drooling. I’ll admit, as the days passed, it got easier and easier to be mindless. I began to understand how some of the people I know feel everyday.

Of course, nature abhors a vacuum, so it gave me something to think about. Twice.

At 1:05am, Friday morning, my EC was talking to me and the room suddenly began moving. We were on the top floor of a beach condo, and it started swaying back and forth. And kept swaying.

My EC looked worried, and asked, ‘What’s happening!?”

“It’s an earthquake.” I replied, trying to play it cool. (Having served a mission in Chile, you needed more than a 5.2 to get me worked up.)

It stopped, but it was enough to scare my wife. We ended up talking about it a bit, and what would we have done if it had been worse. I played it off as no big deal to calm her down, but it did do something that I was specifically trying to avoid: It got me thinking deep thoughts. Yeah. I know.

It got me thinking about how temporary things are. How fragile it all is. How quickly it can change – or end.  And then some lyrics from the musical “Hamilton” came to mind:

Why do you write like you’re running out of time?
Ev’ry day you fight, like you’re running out of time

Why did he write and fight like he was running out of time? Because he WAS running out of time.

So am I.

So are YOU.

This journey in mortality is so fragile, so unpredictable, so…temporary. Is there time to take a week off to be mindless?

The Second Kickstart: My EC were sitting on the beach, as I was gradually returning to my stupor, when she yelled “ouch,” and started doing the slapping-all-over-yourself thing. She said something had bitten her. I looked, but couldn’t see a bite, but I did see a mostly-dead bee she had mashed in her hair. I flicked it out and finished killing it.

By this time, a read splotch was beginning to spread behind her ear. She had no history of bad bee sting reactions, so we weren’t too concerned, but we decided to call it a day and head back inside. As we were walking across the sand, she started feeling a little woozy. When we got back to the room, we started looking up info about bee stings. She didn’t have the normal, scary anaphylactic reaction, but she felt terrible.

I had her take her blood pressure. (We are old and paranoid enough that we have this little wrist-cuff BP gadget.) Her BP was low. Really low. We started debating if we should take her to the ER, or an Urgent Care, because we were in unknown territory. We decided to give it just a few minutes and check again. After about 15 minutes her BP had climbed about 30 points back to where it should be, and she was feeling somewhat better. By later that evening, she had fought it off the other symptoms and was doing OK.

This time, I was freaked out. (This will be news to her, because I am the consummate actor.)

Great. More to think about. Now in addition to the big what-ifs of earthquakes and life altering happenstance, I began to worry about her. Nothing in this world gets me stewing more than thinking about losing my love. So, I woke up early Saturday morning and thought. And thought. Until my puzzler was sore. I thought about our circumstances, our support system, our kid’s futures, etc. It wasn’t a paranoid “Oh my gosh we’re all gonna die,” kind of thinking. It was more of a “I need to run a tighter ship and get some things done.” kind of thinking. Work more, plan more, serve more play more, learn more, love more.

You want to know one thing I’ve been thinking about a lot? I do not have the luxury to tune-out. To be mindless. This mortal life is too short. Our time in mortality with the ones we love is too short. There is too much to do! There is too much to learn! There is too much to experience! And it could all end with a fault in the earth or the sting of a bee.

My attempt at having a mindless week ended up just the opposite. I’ve been thinking a lot, fulfilling one of my favorite unsourced quotes:

“If we stopped to think more, we’d stop to think, more.”

Elder Ballard gave it a great sense of urgency when he said. ‘“For the devil is stealing time, the time we would spend to wonder at spiritual things. Instead, we get so caught up in the things that ‘seem’ to matter, when all of us need to slow down and find a time to contemplate.” (link)

The devil had no need to steal my time – I was gladly giving it away! Instead of using the gift of a week to “slow down and find a time to contemplate,” I was doing my best to avoid that very gift.

“For our words will condemn us, yea, all our works will condemn us; we shall not be found spotless; and our thoughts will also condemn us…” (Alma 12:14.)

If our thoughts will condemn us, could it be that our lack of thoughts might also?

Out of curiosity a quick search of the term “mindless” on LDS.org, a common usage by the brethren has dealt with the internet and television. It is so easy to fill our minds and keep them occupied with “drivel” that we never really have to think the “big” thoughts that might impact our lives and our eternities.

“We’re plugged in 24 hours a day now. We’re all part of one big machine, whether we are conscious of that or not. And if we can’t unplug from that machine, eventually we’re going to become mindless.” Alan Lightman

I had a couple of scares this week that dragged me back to the land of the thinking. It is a good thing. In theory, spending mindless time seems like a nice mental getaway, but at the end of the day, we are all “running out of time.”

If you get in the mood for doing some thinking, here are a few things to peruse:

“You are the Master of Your Thoughts,” Sister Linda S. Reeves

“Out of Your Experience Here,” Gordon B. Hinckley.

“Thoughts About Thoughts.” Dean L. Larsen