Where the mind wanders

You asked me where my mind goes, when it wanders.

I can’t answer the question.

I can’t answer it because it would be misleading, and I can’t answer it because the way it’s misleading will only be a distraction, likely in a way that I am not permitted to be distracting.

What I said is true: It depends.

It depends what you mean by “wandering.”

If you meant “where my mind wanders” when I let it wander, when it’s something I can direct, like daydreaming… then, again, what I said is true. It depends where my mind is at generally, where my focus is, and of course what it is I’m letting my mind wander away from, what the wandering is meant to let me escape. It is the mental vacation, the winning scenario, the fulfillment of small and great wishes: the mountaintop cabin, the successful dinner party, the dream trip, the change in my own heart, the triumphant return of Christ preferrably now.

I could tell you that part. That part was safe enough.

But if you meant by “where my mind wanders” the moments when — aside from keeping myself truly focused at all times — I don’t seem to have any directional power over it… the unguarded half-thoughts that come in the gaps between thoughts, and that I only hear after I’ve had them… the fleeting impression in the moments between moments and in the spaces between spaces (when I’ve turned away from one conversation and am transitioning to the next activity; when I am neither in one room nor another; when I am standing with my hand on the doorknob, in that split second between the door being closed and open) … in the moments that reveal what underlies everything else and where I know at its root is sin for only God should fill that role…

The thing I can’t ever tell you is that the snippet of a fraction of a partial thought is often just a word.

Just two syllables.

Just a whisper on a breath.

Just a name.

Just your name.

And I can never tell you that.

  • Because it’s been that way for at least 7 years now, and I still don’t know what it means.
  • Because I don’t know that it “means” anything in particular.
  • Because you might think it means more than it does or can, and I am not permitted to be that kind of distraction.
  • Because we are friends,  and are only meant to be friends, and can only be friends.
  • Because being your friend means not confusing you, or me for that matter.
  • Because you are not someone I can ever have a relationship beyond friendship with.

Which makes it sad that in your heart of hearts, you don’t really know how to be friends with me.

[Oct 17, 2012]

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~ by lorakceel on October 14, 2012.

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