I come across the image above online. I look into the wisps of clouds and wonder, are they clouds? Are they smoke and if there’s smoke is there fire? The minutes stretch out behind me and I find the thoughts in my head start to clear. The weight of what there is to think about, the things to do and the places to be melts slowly and slides down my shoulders. Brain space is all I need at the moment.
The room to process all the things whirling around in my head. I worry sometimes about things beyond where there is to worry about things. An over-thinker since birth. One of my first memories is laying in bed at night, staring into the darkness and thinking I bet this is what being dead is like. Wondering in the darkness how long it would last for, if there really was a heaven to move onto or just infinite darkness. I was probably about 8 years old.
Isn’t that a strange thought for an eight year old to have? I wonder if that happens to other people. I’m hoping it does, did. You know, so I’m not the only weirdo pondering the end of my life at the beginning of it, yes? Until this moment I haven’t really considered those questions since. I can only assume that 8-year-old me figured it all out and has it all sorted. It does sound like her, she was a bit of a know it all. Same old, same old, you know? Haha.
Kids are great at that. Great at dreaming, at asking the big questions and cutting right to the bone of something. I miss that about myself as an adult. Too much life and too many experiences that just build up around us and then we forget how to do it. Or bury the questions down under a pile of everyday things and bills to pay. Asking questions of ourselves could lead to answers we don’t want to hear.
Is that why we don’t do it? Why we stop asking? Maybe we just need the brain space?