the art of not thinking

We are capable of thinking; that’s a gift that nature grants to humankind.

It is through the act of thinking that we became intellectual, that we captured the movements of the moon and the sea and manipulated nature for agriculture, that we built (and destroyed) civilisation, that we created art and felt its impact in our hearts.

But this gift sometimes also feels like a curse.

Especially now, we live in a landscape where silence is almost impossible to find. Endless videos, notifications, opinions, headlines, and perfectly engineered distractions compete for our attention, while our own minds continue producing thoughts of their own.

Our mind does not have time to take a break — even when we rest, it keeps running and running to different places.

I, too, am incapacitated by this unresting brain syndrome.

A few days ago, I decided to meditate properly for the first time.

I sat still, closed my eyes, and followed my breath — in and out, in and out. For a brief moment, there was a strange sensation of total calmness, of only air entering my lungs.

Then, abruptly, I thought to myself, “This feels great. Why didn’t I do this sooner? If I did this when I was 7, I could have achieved a fully regulated nervous system by now! What a waste of time!”

This led to a full-minute sprint of every opportunity I had missed in the past, every version of me that could have existed if I were more hardworking, more talkative, more courageous.

It surprised me how difficult it was to remain in one ordinary moment.

I have many thoughts — this I knew. It’s the realisation of how little control I have over them that unsettled me. My train of thought keeps running at full speed, never truly arriving at any destination. It has become so accustomed to movements that stillness feels like danger.

As a modern human, I have become expertly trained to distract myself.

A walk always needs to be paired with an acutely curated playlist.

A meal must come with a reality show playing in the background while my thumb flickers through 5 different apps on the phone.

Showering, exercising, or waiting for the kettle to boil must be accompanied by some form of noise — either from external stimulants or internal conversations, or both. It’s like I have a phobia of complete silence.

My mind is plagued with thoughts, and I’m getting sick without even realising it.

Mediation taught me something that day.

We spend so much of our time learning how to think — how to reason, analyse, rationalise, and intellectualise — that we forget the equally important practice of stepping outside of our thoughts. We do not need more thoughts. We need fewer ones, held with greater care.

Hi, I’m Janelle☆ Whoever you are, I hope today has been kind to you.

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