There’s a line. There’s always a line. This particular, awkward, line is the one between daydreaming and over-thinking.
Too often, I’m caught staring off into space, eyes unfocused mind focused deeply in some murky inner territory. This can happen while standing in line, or hanging around in one waiting room or another, or in conversation when something you’ve said triggers some intriguing image.
When that vacant look takes over and I look like someone spacing out, I’m making an inventory of my Zombie Apolalypse Go-Bag and wondering if I replaced the wool socks I took out to use during the last flood. An old ABBA song is playing on my internal radio station (which is recently stuck on the 70’s and 80’s station), right now it’s stuck on the refrain from Super Trouper. Waiting in line is interesting enough without pulling out a phone.
So, half of what goes on inside is sometimes productive, such as: what’s on-hand for dinner, lesson plans for the rest of the week/month, emails to return, what’s going on with some friend or family member, perpetual grocery lists, or any number of daily minutia and down-to-earth day-to-day living.
The other half of inner activity is less logical and a lot more lunacy. Snatches of songs are, literally, always playing the the background. One day, while pumping gas, I found myself singing along to my personal inner music and suddenly realized that the lady at the next pump was singing along…it was a Moody Blues song about Your Wildest Dreams. We shared a shocked sheepish glance, a grin, and continued on into the refrain. I wonder if I was singing with her station or she with mine. Book plots drift and bump against movie plots while charaters from one bleed through to the other.
The line, friends, is not where imagination is divided from logic. That thin, grey line is where they touch. Somewhere, between logic and lunacy, is where insight lives. All at once, connections are clear and understanding is revealed.
The trick is to visit the one without losing touch with the other.
Walking that thin, grey line is why I am staring off into the corner of the room, or gazing at the horizon, and moving to silent music. Nudge me when it’s my turn at the cash register, will you?
Photo Credits: Anita Bowen Photography