I hadn’t heard of ‘brown study’. When I looked it up and did a bit of online research, I quickly realised that I do it all the time. Deep in thought, away with the fairies, that’s me and seemingly more so at the moment. There is a lot going on to fill my head with worry and make me stressful. Of course, things will improve, but I’ve got to get through the here and now. I drift off into my thoughts, trying to reason things out or work out what to do. There is rarely a solution.
This morning I was enjoying the stroll in the cool air to a group I attend. I was wondering if I would have better staying at home because I was feeling upset and close to tears, but the short walk would do me good and I love to catch up with my friends there. I stopped to cross a road, turned to check for traffic and jumped out of my skin to see one of my friends next to me. She’d been saying my name. I hadn’t heard her. I was away in my own little world of oblivion. We walked the rest of the way together, chatting about the mild weather after I’d explained that I was fine, just lost in a daydream.
I’m struggling to concentrate when reading. I’m near to the end of what is a re-read of a good book and I keep losing it, literally. The paragraphs give way to me overthinking something, so I go over it again then often nod off. It isn’t a boring book, well, some might disagree, but I love the story and it is a real rediscovery now, as a mature adult. I think I was about eighteen when it was mandatory reading and, I confess, some of the content was lost on me. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, thank you, Robert Tressell.
My personal brown study isn’t always about what I might be fretting over at the moment. Sometimes I travel way back, reliving nice happenings, or being angry with myself over doing things I now consider stupid – we make mistakes, learn from them and move on – I don’t need to beat myself up fifty years later. Most of what haunts me from the past are things and events that I had absolutely no control over and remain in residence in a brain cell.
I found this poem meaningful. It’s written by C. Vergara, published on Poetry Soup.
Deep thoughts, without blinking
In a trance, deep thinking
Voices of yesteryear, instilling neurotic fear
Deeper and deeper, across my hemisphere.
Deep thoughts, within my soul
Bringing my running to a slow crawl
Trying to avoid it, but can’t control it
Like a ‘who done it’, I can’t outrun it
Deep thoughts, take over my mind
They begin to grind what’s left behind.
It’s a sign, rectifying
My essence in time.
C. Vergara 9/6/2010
Thanks for reading, Pam x
2 comments:
Do you think we do it more as we grow older, the slipping into reveries thing? Are some people more prone to it than others? Is it connected to powers of concentration? You raise some interesting thoughts Pam.
I'm with you regarding The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropist, one of my favourite books, though I haven't re-read it for 30 years or so... too many new books on my list.
I thought the poem was interesting, a good find. Thank you for sharing.
It was a good idea to get out and go to your group meeting.
I think as one gets older we do look back more. I was looking for a photo in my bags of mementos and suddenly the afternoon had gone. I was lost in the past.
The Ragged Trousers was mandatory wasn't it.
I hope things take a turn for the better soon.
The poem summed up the feeling.
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