Ed Note 28.09/10

Welcome back friends to another amazing issue of The Beat Within. This latest issue, 28.09/10, is packed with plenty of stellar submissions that will truly inspire and give hope to us readers.  We are quite impressed with all of you writers who embrace this opportunity to write and share a part of yourself through our weekly writing prompts. Young and old, you all have plenty to say, and this platform, which has been embraced for over 26 years, is essential in our efforts to touch lives and make a small difference in our community and hopefully beyond.  Thank you all for your time, work, and dedication for making this one beautiful and essential magazine. Truly one of a kind! This week we asked our longtime colleague and friend, Simone, to tackle the editorial note, as she has recently ramped up responsibilities with The Beat Within, and we are thrilled to have her expertise and continued commitment to the program and publication.  Allow us to pass the keyboard to our dear friend and colleague.

Greetings readers! Simone here. Some of you know me as a longtime facilitator for Santa Clara County workshops, though I’ve been connected with The Beat Within in a variety of capacities for over ten years now. It’s been a minute since I’ve written an editorial note, and I’m honored to have the opportunity to introduce this latest issue, 28.09/10, which is full of so much incredible writing, as always. 

For this issue, many of you write about your relationship with thinking in response to topic 28.10, “To Think.” The fine line between deep thinking and overthinking is one I teeter often, and I was particularly impacted by a piece written by a young person named Jacob from the San Mateo County Youth Services Center. He writes, “Every moment I am, I think. Instead of feeling, I think. Instead of living in the moment, I’m in a bubble where time doesn’t even exist. Forever a watcher. Forever an observer. Forever alone, but not in a bad way… It’s comforting and safe, but I wouldn’t say it feels good (to think).” 

Jacob’s writing brought up questions for me about what exactly it means to be a watcher, an observer, to one’s own life and the world around us. He describes his thinking like watching a movie, “I’ve got loads of popcorn while I sit back for the long run.” I can really relate to this. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a hard time feeling 100% present in any given moment. I often have this sense that I’m not only doing a thing, but I’m watching myself do it too. A close friend of mine used to describe me as “checked out,” and for a long time I accepted that description, but as I’ve grown and thought more about how I relate to my surroundings, it doesn’t feel completely accurate to my experience. 

Since moving from LA to Sacramento last summer, it’s been a real challenge for me to find and build community here, so I spend a large amount of time alone. It’s allowed me some serious one-on-one time with my thoughts, which isn’t always productive. I get caught up thinking about my life in LA, about the people and places and activities I left. I spend time imagining what my life could’ve been like if I hadn’t moved, if I had chosen a different path. There’s a branch of quantum physics called the “many worlds interpretation,” which is a theory that anytime a decision is made, reality splits and a whole universe is born where a different version of yourself is living out the reality that you didn’t choose. In my case, there’s a universe that exists where I chose to stay in LA and follow the path I was already on. 

I find myself thinking about this other version of myself a lot, and fantasizing about what she’s doing in this alternate reality. These thoughts, while comfortable, don’t serve me in the reality I write to you from right now, because what’s done is done. There is no going back to that moment I made the decision to move, that moment when reality split. And yet, because these thoughts are comfortable (because my life in LA was comfortable), I return to them in times when I feel unsure of myself in Sacramento, when I’m having trouble imagining what’s ahead in the reality I’m living. 

This is one of the instances where my deep thinking ventures into overthinking, and I have to make a concerted effort to reel myself back in. A while back I was searching for others who had difficulty feeling present in their world, and came across something called “maladaptive daydreaming.” Maladaptive daydreaming is a behavior where a person spends an excessive amount of time immersed in their imagination. It’s often a response to trauma, and shows up in folks who have high anxiety. Maladaptive daydreams are intense and vivid daydreams that are triggered by real-world events (a certain smell, a certain song, a conversation topic, etc.), and lead us to dissociate from reality. These kind of daydreams interfere with our lives by distracting us from completing tasks or preventing us from carrying out our responsibilities. Science estimates that we spend about 47% of our waking hours daydreaming (nearly half of our lives!), and I wonder what that number would be for folks who are inclined to maladaptive daydream. 

To “watch” is a passive experience, much like how we watch a movie, as Jacob describes. However, there are elements of his piece that tell us he’s doing so much more than passively consuming his reality. Especially that he likes to analyze; he watches how people act so that he can get a read on them. He’s seeing himself become the person he’s turning into. This, to me, is more than “watching” – it’s an act of witnessing, which is a highly engaged kind of observation. 

Consider a time when a close friend or loved one confided in you. They’re going through an incredibly hard time, and they don’t need advice – they just need someone to listen to them. They need someone to really see them for who they are, and for where they’re at. This kind of recognition is so much more than simply watching or observing. It’s a way to be with them, a way to share their burden. This is witnessing. And what does it mean to bear witness to ourselves? 

The fact that we’re wrapped up in our thoughts doesn’t necessarily mean that we’re “checked out.” It might mean that we’re digesting what’s around us, that we’re processing our world. This takes a high level of internal engagement. Even though we’re not actively responding to what’s happening, it doesn’t mean that we’re not impacted by it. Sometimes to bear witness to ourselves means that we are holding space for ourselves to simply be. That movie that we feel like we’re watching of our lives can provide us very valuable insights into who we are and how we move in the world. 

The thing we have to be mindful of, is the “shell” that we can retreat into when this witnessing becomes too much to bear. The shell is a comforting and safe place to be, but it can also limit our growth. We all outgrow our shells – many shells – throughout our lives. When our minds and spirits push up against the boundaries of what we know to be safe and comfortable, what will be the makings of our new home? 

Thank you all, for your writing on this topic, and for allowing us a peek into your shell. Though our minds are occupied by different things, I share your exploration in trying to decipher what, exactly, my relationship to my thoughts are, and what that means for how I engage with the world around me. 

Thank you, Simone, for a wonderful editorial note and we are sure Jacob will be thrilled to know his work has touched you and will certainly touch many more readers.

All right friends, our Beat door is always open, especially to those we do not see each week…  write us anytime, share a note, a letter, a message, a submission, a piece of art, you know we will love to hear from you. Our biggest challenge is getting back to you with a response, so bear with us, as we do our best to acknowledge receipt of your writings. Thank you for your patience. The worst case is, if you share a submission, we’ll certainly send you a copy of the magazine with your work inside.  As for letters of inquiry, we do our best to write, but given the sheer number of letters, we know we can’t connect with everyone. Our apologies.  Thank you, friends, for all you do.  This magazine, this program would not be what it is today if it wasn’t for the amazing partnerships we have created over time. Stay in touch! Enjoy this latest issue.