Preoccupation

pre-oc-cu-py: to engross the mind in thoughts to the exclusion of other thoughts

I have been accused for most of my life of being "absentminded." One of the dictionary definitions of "absentminded" is "showing a habitually inattentive disposition".  The truth is that absentminded people are very attentive people.  They just aren't, in that moment, attentive to you. They are attentive to something else.

For example:   You and I are having a conversation about beer. Beer is not only something I enjoy drinking from time to time, I enjoy talking about drinking it as well. I'm interested in what you have to say and I'm engaged in the dialogue.  But all of a sudden at ten times  the speed of light I start thinking about a funny story my first cousin told me several years ago about my teetotaler dad and a can of beer.   But as you continue to talk about your favorite  beer you  notice my eyes glaze over or obtain a far-away look.  You think that I am no longer interested in the conversation. You may even think I'm very rude. I'm not rude; I'm inspired.  Your words inspired me to go to another time and another place.  My mind is far from "absent".  It's just present in another place. Give me a second and I'll be back with you.  I didn't mean to wander off. I really couldn't help it. It's partially your fault.

My mind wanders.  The image I have of my own mind's function is that of a lighthouse.  There is a beam of light inside of my head that is constantly searching.  Millions of times per second it goes around and around and then locks on a thought.  That lock may last for several minutes, hours or even days, or it may lock for only a piece of second and move to something else. This modus operandi of my brain can be a  problem.  I developed this habit as a child.  I'm always thinking about something. So many times I've wished that I could, from time to time, remove my head from my neck and place it to the side for a little while.  The brain would keep on thinking, but those thoughts wouldn't be bothering me. Just for a little while. And when I go to sleep at night, the adventure has just begun. Ah thinking!  My best friend. My worst enemy.

Since removing my head is not a viable option, I have developed other methods of dealing with the problem. of random and  scattered thoughts.  All of these techniques involve time alone. I gain my energy from being by myself and not from being in a crowd of people.  A crowd of people drains my energy. If I do not find a way to renew my personal power, I can grow very grumpy and very agitated. Being alone for me isn't selfish. It's necessary.

The techniques I have employed most often over the years to center my thoughts are reading, listening to music, photography and writing.  I have read volumes of books and literature. I've read works of fiction and non-fiction.  I have read the classics. I've read biographies, I've read autobiographies. I've read American history from the European  settlers' point of view and the American Indians' point of view. I'm more of an Indian than a cowboy.   I've read world history. I've read philosophy and inspirational books.  I've read the Bible through and through. I've read the Book of Mormon (most of it). I've read much of the I Ching.  I've read books on physics and quantum mechanics. Books about photography. Books about writing.  Books about books. I never tire of reading about our solar system, galaxy and the universe. I've read hundreds of books and tens of thousands of pages. Books provide an unending source of energy and inspiration.

I could write volumes about listening to music.  They call music "arrangements".  Music rearranges the molecules of my brain in ways that provide calm and personal peace. Millions find calm in the bottom of a bottle (glass and plastic), I find it with my brain inside my Bose noise-canceling headphones. And I've never had a hangover from music. Tinnitus yes. Hangover no. I experience this retreat some part of nearly every day.

Photography is a relationship of a person, a camera, and light.  The camera sees things in sharp focus (a little pun).  My Canon camera sees so much more than I can see.  But it can't see by itself.  The camera needs my help. It needs me to set the aperture, the shutter speed, the ISO, the metering and the white balance. Do I want aperture priority or shutter priority? Once I do all that, point the camera toward the subject and press the shutter release, the camera does the rest. It creates a world of surprise and beauty. With my camera in my hand I'm as focused (get it?) as can be.  For that matter the biggest part of most of my photos are out of focus. Bokeh.  A camera is a dialogue with available light. When I'm walking through the woods with a camera, I am thinking of little else.

Writing is perhaps my most effective tool in centering.  When I write I start with a thought( no surprise there). This morning I'm thinking about how I think and how I deal with how I think. And I start writing about it.  It takes all my concentration to write. I not only have to find the right words to convey what I'm thinking and feeling, but I have to pay attention to  diction, grammar and punctuation. As I write I'm constantly aware of the fact that the words will be read.  I want my reader to understand as well as possible what I'm trying to say.  All of that requires my total concentration for several minutes or sometimes hours. I am seldom more present in the moment than when I'm writing. You tell me that you enjoy my writing, but I write much more for me than I do for you. However, I find  great pleasure in the fact that my bliss can sometimes be yours as well.

I started writing this over two hours ago. During that time  I've thought of very little but writing. Oh and the soundtrack from The Bridge of Spies by Thomas Newman has provided focus and inspiration. The music rearranges my thoughts as I arrange the words. But to be honest I'm tired of writing. I think I'll find my camera.