There’s a diagnosis for that thing where your brain is just a big overstuffed heart and it won’t work like a brain anymore, right?
Because I’ve got that. I put in my requests for information processing. Instead of working like a computer, my mind is a paper shredder. Everything comes out scrambled, in long thin bits. It all looks sort of recognizable, but it isn’t.
So I sit on the couch and wait. Netflix runs in the background. I can think even less than before. I think, I really need to get back on that book review. What will the editor think of me?
Then a student emails to say, hey, you didn’t post the assignment. I check. I did post the assignment. My mind is derailed from its original pursuits again. Except this time, it is reassuring. Even in this state, I am in better shape than some. Phew. Everything’s relative.
I recall, those original pursuits I had from the day before mean I have Tasks to do. People to call. State offices to contact, and then to be sent off on a loop. I am sitting on a couch when Tasks need to be done.
Then someone reaches out to me, and without warning, I feel my cheeks wet. I can’t really think about being sad or upset. I just know that the clouds are congested, and the air is humid with unresolved issues. I’
m worried that if I keep doing this, and this ERROR message keeps appearing, I will lose those people. They will stop reaching out because, let’s face it, all of us have struggles and tasks, long lists of tasks. Is there a person out there whose job it is to shepherd those of us staggering out of life with no purpose and with congested hearts instead of minds.