The picture I have is of guitar cables.
I never did learn how to coil and uncoil them properly during my years as a band boy. Purists would bark psycho at me turning them in a lazy circular motion until everything is coiled and I stuff it into the narrow pocket of my guitar case. The price I pay for being unlearned about the art of coiling a guitar cable is that I have to spend more time untangling them and lifting portions of it so that gravity will help me uncoil them to an extent. They never do get properly untangled though, because I was careless when I coiled them to begin with.
That’s pretty much a fairly accurate analogy of what happens to my mind sometimes.
I imagine for some people, a more accurate analogy on what happens to their mind sometimes is of a sheet of pristine paper that’s been crumpled. Undoing it merely involves flattening the paper out. It’s never going to be pristine again sure, but it’s a lot easier to bring it back to it’s rough original shape.
Actually what I do with my mind and thoughts sometimes is like coiling a lengthy guitar cable carelessly before stuffing it into a narrow pocket of a guitar case, yes. Except I then coil another lengthy cable and repeat that process and stuff it into the same pocket. I pretty much do this for about four lengthy cables before stuffing my hand into the packed pocket and start mingling the cables around inside. What I am left with is a mess of tangled thoughts, feeling and emotions that I wouldn’t even know how to start untangling.
As such I often sit there, with my tangled mess, surrendered to the notion that I would never be able to uncoil it and start planning on how I should learn to live with it. So I am grateful for friends who can come along and get their fingers in and start figuring out how to start untangling my mess from the base cause. People who are willing to process things with me patiently at a psychologically conceptual and almost incomprehensible level to help me figure out how to start untangling the mess I’ve gotten myself into. I am aware portions of my mind may never be completely the same again but at least I can start uncoiling them to an extent where they can become useful to someone again.
To them I raise a glass today. I am grateful for you because you keep me sane by being just a little insane, at times.