I wrote this a few weeks ago.
Im currently on a train to London as I write this. I’m going to see a therapist. He does hypnotherapy. I’ve been to one before, he was really good.
I’m sure you can probably guess why I’m going. If you know me.
I’m hoping to learn a lot about how I see things. I don’t just mean with my eyes, but with my whole mind.
As I’m looking out the window, I think back to being a kid and how I could stare endlessly out the window for hours and hours whilst on a train. Even in the underground, I’d stare out the window into the blackness, always finding something to see, some how.
Whilst I’m doing this journey on the train, I’m realising some things about myself.
I’m one of those long winded, expressive, arty creative types; you know, the ones who are. Just that little bit eccentric and you never quite know what questionable bollocks they’re going to come out with next.
I don’t fully fit that bill, I think, but I know I’m close.
And I realize this because of the way I see things. I’ve thought for a long time, that there are too many colours and visions in my head. Tat there are too many things for me to see, and that the things I DO see, I don’t seem to see them like I suspect most other people do.
Which is a bit infuriating, because I think my head would be a lot calmer, and clearer, and quieter, if I didn’t see so much.
As I’m watching the world whizz by own this Pendolino (which smells delicious because everyone’s eating breakfast), I can’t work out why my mind is insanely happy to drink in everything it’s seeing. And I mean everything.
If it wasn’t for the crap all over the windows on the outside, I suspect I would have taken a frillion pictures. Not necessarily to show off to other people, but just to let my brain process. It does a lot of processing. I see stuff, but I don’t often process it until I’ve seen it.
I think.
Processing means more noise.
I like processing, in a weird way. It helps me maintain control of what I see, what I have to hear. And I see and hear a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I see and hear too much; that seems to be when I get all twitchy and want to do something else instead.
When I get to this therapy session, I hope I’m not muted. Oddly, I hope everything else isn’t muted, because the noise and what I see is some kind of security blanket. It’s me, it’s what I do, it’s who I am.
I still want to be able to see. Maybe it would be better to see less? Or maybe how I see it is actually very important?
Maybe, just maybe, I’ll figure that out one day.
