Don't Overthink It

I don’t know about you, but my outsides don’t always necessarily reflect my insides. My insides often feel as though they are permanently on speed, the volume in my brain is turned up to max and the obsessional thoughts which hijack my waking moments think it’s party time all day, every day and come out to play.

It’s the current malaise of our times isn’t it?  Anxiety. Stress. Worry. Fear. I’ve felt like this though for pretty much all of my life before it ever became acceptable to mention it to anyone. In my younger days, you just had to get on with it and pretend it wasn’t there. (I’m not saying that’s a good thing. I’m just saying.)  Because people would generally retreat in embarrassed silence if you admitted you were feeling less than chipper and coping and suddenly find they had something urgent to do on the other side of town.  Nowadays there’s far more understanding and acceptance of mental health issues even if some sceptics still want to make everyone do National Service and knock all those messy feelings out of them. I’d have been hopeless at National Service so it wouldn’t have done me much good anyway. I can’t run for toffee. And if I don’t have access to a full working shower and my hair straighteners for twenty-four hours, I go into a decline.

My daughter said something very prescient to me not long ago. It’s a bit alarming at times when you realise that your children are full grown adults and no longer need you to read them a story at bedtime or tie their shoelaces. It was the day before my mum’s funeral and I was obsessing over my clothes. I had already bought two new tops, two new pairs of pants (don’t ask) and two new pairs of tights even though I hate tights and knew they would stay in the packet. I wanted to do a little fashion parade with my daughter so she could coo gently and tell me what to wear. I could then ignore it and go back into full-on obsessional mode which is where I feel familiar and therefore in a perverse way – happy.

But she refused the fashion parade and just said, ‘Mum – don’t overthink it. Just get dressed.’

And do you know, dear reader, that really hit home. ‘Don’t overthink it. Just get dressed.’

Not surprisingly, my stress levels leading up to the big day were stratospheric as I had organised the whole shebang and was delivering my mum’s eulogy as well. I wanted to do my best. I wanted to look my best. But I was in danger of sabotaging the entire event because of my over active zippy mind which insisted on turning cartwheels and showing off how it could do them backwards, forwards and up against the wall, before careering off down the street.

However, on the morning of the day, I still had those six little words circling my head on a loop which was useful as it didn’t allow so much room for everything else. And do you know what I did? I’ll tell you. I went for a walk. Quite a long walk actually so by the time I got back to the house there was only just enough time to Just Get Dressed before my dear old mum arrived and we set off to do it.

And it was fine.

And it set me thinking about other parts of my life where I need to not overthink it and Just Get Dressed. And the big bogey I want to see off is the obsessional meanderings around How to Pray which has taken up far too much house room in my brain for years and years and made me beat myself up time and again. (Not so loving really which is kind of the point of prayer.)  I have been back to the starting block on prayer so many times saying confidently – ‘This is the one! – this new book/method/system/ author/ plan/spirituality/ retreat will change my prayer landscape for ever.’ If I had a pound for every attempt I’ve made at different ways of prayer I’d be giving Jeff Bezos a run for his billions.  But I always set off with great good intentions and have always – but always failed. It’s the spiritual equivalent of joining a gym and handing over half your month’s income to go to three sessions in the first three weeks of January and never making it through the doors again.

And I’ve started to think – why? Why set myself up for failure time and again? Why have this inner monologue saying I have to be brilliant at prayer and become some spiritual guru just short of canonisation. Who says I have to pray six hours a day then spend another three hours in silent meditation before going outside to marvel at creation and commune with the Almighty. (I might quite like to do that last bit but not if it’s an obsession tbh).

So I’ve started saying, ‘Don’t Overthink It’ of prayer. Just Pray. Which in my book can mean anything. It can mean whispering ‘help me’ when the obsessional thoughts start flexing their muscles and playing the big bully. It can mean singing a verse of a hymn in my choir and feeling for an instant unbearable happy. It can mean taking a walk up the local Greenway and saying ‘Wow’ at the colours. It can mean opening the front door every morning to get a blast of endorphins, saying ‘Good morning, Jesus’ and then closing it again. (The first time I did this my husband was somewhat alarmed as he thought I was going to the shops in my nightie but hey-ho.)

So I’ve had it with trying to win races. I’m not competing any more. So there. I’m just saying, ‘Don’t Overthink It. Just Pray.’ Five little words.

 Image by ZeeNBee

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'The Art of Spiritual Writing by Eirene and Richard Palmer is available on Amazon or direct from Eirene and Richard at spirwrite@gmail.com