Friday, 14 June 2013

My Blog My Inner Monologue

Why do I Tramp?

Short answer: to stop the voice inside my head.

Longer answer: I don't know what your inner dialogue sounds like but my one is incessant and maddeningly trivial. "...Going to the fridge now, opening the door, bending down, getting cheese, oh it looks a bit green, will need to trim that off, where is the knife, hey didn't actually want cheese came out here for a peanut butter and honey sandwich, put cheese back, that lettuce is no good put it in the compost, arm itchy, hello cat - no I've fed you already - hey I didn't come for a sandwich I was making Anna a cup of tea, have sandwich anyway, now typing: press the letters 'p' 'r' 'e' 's' 's'   't' 'h' 'e'   'l' 'e' 't' 't' 'e' 'r' 's', bit cold in here should turn on heat pump, you're standing one foot, why..."

Onomatopoeia abounds. Click goes the mouse 'click'. 'Tap' 'tap' 'tap' the keyboards keys. Driving the car I'm making the engine sound in my head, the indicators, the windscreen wipers...

I have tinnitus. When I notice the squeal I also notice my own high pitched sing along... ...and when I notice the sing along...

Someone talks to me and, before I can register what they are saying, I have to repeat their words in my 'voice'. This leads to a terrible habit due to my thoughts getting ahead of their words where I complete other people's sentences for them either out loud or in my head (in which case I find myself answering my rendering of their sentence which may be a completely different answer to what their question was asking). This can be embarrassing and confusing.

Anna tells me she is the exact opposite. No inner monologue at all.  Within her mind lies total silence.

People throughout my life have always complained that it's infuriatingly difficult to gain my attention especially when I'm reading. I truly do not hear them or, more exactly, it takes repeated effort on their part for me to realize they have been trying to get my attention. This happens most days.  

When I am reading, the words on the page become my monologue. I become completely immersed. I love reading for this immersion. For drowning out the chatter.

Oh the chatter!

This is probably the worst of it for me. Parties overwhelm me with other peoples conversations. Truly busy places - train stations in large cities, airports, markets etc. are all right because the various conversations and sounds become one large hubbub. But parties, busy restaurants anywhere with yak yak yak going on, quickly take their toll.

In complete contrast, tramping with it's lack of human created inputs slowly leads, over a number of days, to much less inner noise. I think the lack of verbal cues in the environment means my voice eventually runs out of things to say. I find myself after what may be minutes, may be hours voicing surprise to myself that this voiced thought is the first thought I can remember having for the aforementioned time period. This experience most likely to occur when tired moving through easy terrain.

Of course the verbalized thought is bitter-sweet as the silence is broken the inner voice has returned but it is likely to be lost again and again until other people to yabber are found.

Thursday, 13 June 2013

A Beginning

So a friend, +Ben Dooley, asked me if I had a blog and the answer was no I did not.

And now, a couple of hours later, I do.

Expect rambling half thought out rants followed by long periods of inactivity.

Expect discontent.

Expect dull.

Expect disorganisation augmented with other self defeating behaviours.

That is: expect the life of a forty year old with two youngsters, one loving partner, one cat and one mortgage.

But there will also be escapes: Running. Reading. Frequent dreams of and rare attempts at entering the wilderness. Sewing. And a kayak that lurks in my garage, half built.