An Ode to Rumination

Practically every time I talk to my mother, she likes to mention some class or activity she thinks I should do. Riding horses was on a primetime run for about a year. The other day she mentioned some kind of renaissance group she thought I should join and writing is one that she still harps on me about.

You can thank her for this terrible blog. It’s kind of her fault.

My favorite one and I’m only being a quarter facetious, was taking a philosophy class. I remember when she said it to me, because I was like, “What do you expect me to do with a philosophy class Mom? That’s just going to take up time and money. No one is going to be impressed that I took a philosophy class for fun when I’ve already graduated college.”

I realized that she was throwing all these activities at me, because she worries about me. At the time she mentioned the philosophy class, I was super unemployed and depressed. I felt stuck in all areas of my life. My boyfriend had dumped me, my attempts at getting non-serving jobs were failing, and I still wasn’t booking the kind of acting jobs I wanted.

She knows I’m the type of person who needs to keep busy, because if I’m not, I ruminate all day long. This might be a fun activity for some people, but I’ll ruminate about the things I’m not happy about. I’ll ruminate about why my boyfriend dumped me, how ridiculous it is to get a job in this city, and why is rent so god damn high.

Her reasoning for me taking a philosophy class was that I naturally love to ruminate, so I might as well join a group where I could ruminate with other people who love to ruminate. It made me laugh because it sounded like an AA group for neurotic people who think too much.

My mother knows this because her side of the family is full of people who think too much. My mother quotes one of our relatives as saying “I’ve been cursed with the affliction of an overactive mind.”

I believe it was my great-grandfather that said this, but I don’t want to mis-quote. My mother throws out a lot of metaphors and anecdotes, so I get them mixed up sometimes. You can also thank her for my bad puns and such.

Anyway, I’ve been hearing I think too much all my life and it’s exhausting. It’s exhausting to hear and experience.

I read an article recently that people like me generally tend to be creative geniuses. Well I definitely do not feel like that is true for me. As a child I thought I could become one though. My mother offered to take me to piano lessons as a child. I was always tinkering with my grandmother’s piano. I refused my mother’s helping hand, because I wanted to know how the first person who ever played a piano did it. No joke. I thought that was the path to genius.

Clearly it wasn’t.

I suppose if my overactive mind had led to genius, I’d be ok with it. Instead I often find myself trying to figure out what the hell is up with people. It’s like I’m in a constant game of chess and I can think ahead to my moves, their moves, the counter moves for both of us, but I can’t decide on what step to actually take. My mind thinks like this, “Well what if they were just trying to be nice and if I say this, we’ll they think I’m being pushy? How do I convey what I really think and want without coming across the wrong way? What if this happens and that?”

Over and over and over. I’m tired of calculating everything. It may lead to an implosion and/or an explosion, but I gotta get all these thoughts out.

I’m tired of philosophizing. I just want to be.

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6 thoughts on “An Ode to Rumination

  1. “I’m tired of philosophizing. I just want to be.” Some philosophers have said that to be is to do. Others have asserted that to do is to be. Frank Sinatra said it this way: “Do. Be. Do. Be. Do.” J.

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