Some days, I come home from work with a head that is ‘thick with thoughts’. Mentally congested, I am unable to digest another piece of information.
It would be easy to reach for a glass of wine to dull the senses. But at my age time is precious. I’d prefer to consciously engage with it – and I appreciate the contribution a good night’s sleep makes to the quality of my day.

I have found that just sitting on my verandah perusing the activity of my bushland garden quietens my mind. I suspect meditation would do the same. But I have found my easiest pathway to peace is through writing. When my mind is ‘thick with thoughts’ I ‘free associate’ write. I put to paper all those ‘flea hopping’ thoughts that are rattling around. Work I want to progress, back pain, IT problems, conversation comments, news items, the weather, money, friends and family. All of it. Written on the page.
And as I hop about, something happens. My mind slows and it turns. It settles on one thing to write about and a thread appears. With that thread, my body calms and life feels manageable again.
Earlier in the week a family member spoke of the ‘third shift’ in their life. In other conversations, we reflected on the simplicity and happiness of people living traditional village life. Later, as I washed my dishes (part of my second shift), the memory of households in times gone by with clear demarcation of resource generation and resource saving responsibilities came to mind. My mind tires with the continual need to move between the responsibilities of work, household upkeep, family, pets, garden, and health. Our minds are certainly processing much more than human beings living on the planet 50 years ago! No wonder we reach points where nothing more can be accommodated.
Our mental and physical health is dependant on a balance between cognitive activity (thinking to keep elements of our lives alive) and rest (letting it all go). Find your own way to build in moments of repose. And if writing appeals to you, tame those mental ‘fleas’ by anchoring them on the page and return once more to a singular slow train of thought innate to the natural flow of life. As you walk in the front door after a long day, allow writing to transition you into a calmer space. The external world doesn’t have to reside in our home.

