The art of forgetting

You know, the odd thing is that all this angst-venting doesn’t work.  No, I’m actually in more pain now than when I sat down to write.  Angst is, it seems, just another form of stress.  Of anxiety.  A glorified variant of getting worked up. 

No, the only thing that seems to help – apart from Quercetin supplements – is relaxing.  Letting go of it all.  Just letting it all slip forgetfully away, as though all that careful analysis was worth nothing.  Oh, if I can do that, it’s lovely.  After all the effort we make to think, to remember, to analyse, you wouldn’t think that being relaxed and vacant-headed would be difficult, would you?  Try it.  Oh, try it.  Try it when it hurts when you’re not getting it right. 

It’s not even about emotion.  It doesn’t matter if you’re feeling something or not.  As long as there’s no resistance in you.  If you’re feeling happy, that’s fine, it doesn’t hurt.  If you’re letting despair wash through you, that doesn’t hurt either.  Try and divert that flow under your microscope though – ouch.  Likewise if you put it aside for later.  If your fears surface as images, blocking those will hurt too.

It’s odd, as though the only way to health is an unthinking, mindless way.