Change Your Mind
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- 09
Last night, I had a dream. I don’t remember much of it, but what I do remember is fascinating. (To me.)
What I remember: I sat there, somewhere, writing, writing madly, scribbling the same thing over and over. Cogito Ergo Sum. The one image from my dream that sticks with me looks like this:
Cogito Ergo Sum
Cogito Ergo Sum
Cogito Ergo Sum
Cogito Ergo Sum
Cogito Ergo Sum
Cogito Ergo Sum
Well, you get the picture. Those three words repeated themselves over and over. Those three Latin words. And I do not know Latin. But, apparently, I do dream about Descartes. Or, at least his ideas. In the unfortunate event that you were not a philosophy major like I was, in the event that you studied something disgustingly practical like economics, I will offer a quick translation of Descartes’ famous words.
Cogito Ergo Sum = I think, therefore I am.
You probably knew that, but I don’t want to assume anything. And, no, there is nothing disgusting about economics or its brethren fields of study. Calm down.
Why did I dream of Descartes? Why did I dream of this existentially exquisite trio of words? I don’t know. I’m not going to pretend to know. But I will hazard a guess. Presumably, my dream evidences the importance of thought not only in my life, but in my identity. Maybe I am a modern day Descartes, prone to question everything, to doubt everything that surrounds me. Where others see periods and exclamation points, I see a ubiquity of question marks. BUT what is one thing I cannot doubt? The fact that I doubt, the fact that I think. And, the incontrovertible facts that I constantly doubt and think, underscore the fact that I exist. So, the conclusion: I exist! Phew. Good to know.
Ultimately, this dream, even just the haunting shards I still have of it, means so much more than this. More than I can understand or articulate. Why the repetition of the same three words? (Symbolic of the oft monotonous repeating patterns of modern motherhood? Representative of the unrelenting forward thrust of life, the lack of pause?) Why the act of writing in the dream? (Because for me writing is breath, truth, exploration? Because the written word is tangible and immortal while thoughts are ephemeral and fleeting? Because I am currently, passionately, obsessed with writing and it is not only consuming my waking life, but my subconscious?) Why the simple and stark black against white? (Because I tend to see the infinite grays, the inchoate complexities, the resident layers, in any situation and maybe part of me longs for a simpler, black-and-white, existence and perception thereof?)
Who knows. What I do know is that I went to sleep last night and woke up this morning and my mind is on fire. Here I am, plopped at Starbucks, plugged in to modernity and the Internet and a cliched Yuppie existence, but my mind is dancing a philosophical jig. What about Descartes’ famous mind/body distinction? Are the mind and body really separate, fundamentally distinct? I don’t know. What I do know is that my mind is a busy thing, revving when I least expect it, cooking up dreams alternatingly metaphysical and mundane.
Why do we fixate so intently on our bodies? How big or small they are? Why do we not cast the same fierce focus on our minds? Why do we fixate on physical flaws and not on our mental shortcomings? I know that some of you wish for smaller butts, or bigger boobs, or straighter teeth. But do you ever squint and wish for a different psyche? Do you wish you could change your mind?
I do. I wish that I could re-wire my brain and add a light switch. At 3:30am when my body is tired, in dire need of rest, but my mind is charting the future, and fixed in the past, and juggling worries and hopes and dreams literal and figurative, I wish I could flip a switch and turn it off. Also, in those moments, those deceptively mundane moments when I am building a Lego tower or filling a bowl of Cheerios, and my brain is flagging and distant, I would hurl that switch in the other direction. Turn the mind on, compel it to absorb the nuances, the details, the colors of that moment. And, if I were really going to splurge on this transformation, I would add a dimmer to my brain’s switch. So that I could make more subtle changes to my mind’s openness and activity. And of course I would want a circuit breaker. For those times when I am utterly overloaded, incapacitated. For those times when it is all just too much.
If you could, would you change your mind? If so, how? If not, why?
I have often wished for this same sort of mechanism, to just turn my thoughts off or on or up! I would also like a switch to control that part of my mind that catches a phrase from a popular lyric and then plays that song over and over and over in my head. It’s annoying. (Right now, it’s an ABBA song, after reading that final sentence)
I love dreams and the clues they give as to how our minds work. It is all the more fascinating to me because I had a particularly memorable dream this past weekend. Last week was particularly contentious with several of my legal adversaries (as opposed to my personal ones
!) After receiving an incredibly snide letter on Friday afternoon, I was livid. That night, I dreamed that I was in a nondescript building made of hallways and giant rooms. A psycho murderer named Stephen Dorff (but not the actor) was loose in the building and you knew he was coming when you heard the sound of a squeaky land surveying device he pushed as he walked. Sure enough, I heard the “squeaky wheel” and he presented himself to me. He said he was going to murder me but didn’t do anything to further his objective other than standing in front of me in a passively menacing sort of way. I apparently was wearing extremely chunky boots (so not my style) and I suddenly began to stomp on him until he fell and I left to walk down the hall. As I entered the next giant room, he appeared again and oddly I wasn’t scared, I was annoyed that I had to stomp him again.
My mind is far from perfect but I love how it dealt with my frustration and exasperation with the petty games I am dealing with in my case. I love that my psycho killer is named after an actor whose name I’ve heard of but know little more about him other than his name (like one of my adversaries). I love that he is squeaky wheel but there’s little substance to his threats and my fearlessness is my mind reminding me of this.
I suppose if I could change my mind, I would change my mind to be smarter and faster than I am now. For example, if I had a photographic memory, working from home would be much easier, no heavy exhibits to lug home. I like your idea of a switch, but I might tweak my controls to be those like on a tv (I am Gen X after all, raised on tv):
“Sharpen” – for those unforgettable professional and personal moments, to remember each tiny detail to savor.
“Brightness” – to bring an overarching clarity to situations I find (get) myself into.
“Contrast” – to flash into my head immediate perspective when I get livid about a stupid lawyer letter!
I think we fixate on physical flaws because physical appearances can be changed. I could dye my hair purple and I’d still be ME. My weight can fluctuate, I can gain or lose 10 pounds, but I’m still ME. In this day and age more and more of the physical is changeable (face lifts, tummy tucks, boob jobs, hair extensions, bizarre liposuction that apparently corrects ‘cankles’ — you name it and for a price it exists. But no matter how we change our physical appearance, we are still us.
Why? Because, fundamentally, we can’t change or rewire our brains. While I can understand your initial desire to rewire your brain at times, in the end if given the option I bet you wouldn’t do it. Because if you did have a metaphorical light switch, it would take away the ‘you-ness’ of being ‘you’.
In terms of changing the circuitry of my brain, I often fantasize about what it be like to have a mind with the capacity to play Chopin brilliantly on the piano, to speak 3 or more languages fluently, to have the ability to effortlessly solve mathematical proofs. But if I had (or knew) those things, I wouldn’t be the Sarah that I am.
So no, I wouldn’t change my mind.
An interesting topic.
To Sarah — why is it that we focus so much on the things we wish we could do and fail to appreciate our own qualities and abilities? The same thought bugs me… It think this feeling grows into having lower self-esteem really fast. Sometimes we should ask ourselves — can the people I’m jealous of also do what I can?
To Aidan — I think the easiest way for you would be not to sit up until 3:30 am
The weirdest thoughts come when we have that time all for ourselves… But on the other side we all need it, and I can understand this very well. I think it’s important to let our mind process ALL of the thoughts that creep up, no matter how much we don’t want some of them to invade it.
Dawn – Welcome. I agree – I would flip that switch if I could and turn off the repeating lyrics if I could. Sadly, for me, it’s usually the theme song to sundry kids’ shows like Dora or Diego or Wonder Pets. Not that they are bad songs. Actually, they are genius, catchy songs, but I would prefer they would not echo in my head during a dinner party.
D – I LOVE the dream! How amazing and revealing! Don’t you adore how your subconscious tackles the leftovers, the angst, of your waking loves. The sharpness/brightness/contrast insight is genius. If only.
Sarah – You raise an interesting set of points. Truth is I probably would not change my mind. Because it is my mind that makes me Me. BUT. I do wish there were times when I could put things on simmer because honestly I do need to sleep. But, at then end of the day, it is likely my mind, with all of its sleepless foibles and crazy, unpredictable activity that makes me who I am. So I probably wouldn’t change it.
P.J. – Compelling question – the people whom we envy – could they do what we do? Who knows. I do not sit up until 3:30! I go to sleep super-early, around 10. But then I wake up, usually to go to the bathroom (sorry if TMI), and cannot go back to sleep because my brain goes into overdrive. Lucky me. I agree that however torturous it seems to process many complicated things at once, this serves some bigger purpose.
D – I meant “waking life” in the above comment – was it a fabulous Freudian slip? Who knows?
Lol! I think I like waking loves better!
“I do. I wish that I could re-wire my brain and add a light switch… I wish I could flip a switch and turn it off.”
Zoloft, Valium, Xanax etc,,, people do rewire their minds all the time whether for better or for worse (usually the worse.) But this is more taboo than boob jobs and face lifts are for sure. When Tom Cruise questioned Brooke Shields on her medical approach to getting her mind back in shape postpartum, it ended publicly badly for him and she was better off for it once the genie was put back in the bottle. These days it seems even extreme body makeovers are no big deal as we have prime-time shows devoted to the topic and as the mass populace hail the demi gods of ultra makeovers in complete adulation (hello Michael Jackson.)
Personal “therapists” have been in vogue for over ten years in Manhattan. Ultimately prescription medicine cannot “correct” deeply ingrained flaws such as insecurities or general anxieties, caused possibly by the upbringing given by and the shortcomings of our parents. As parents we have to be careful our children do not inherit any of our own issues which they can later blame on us….