Clouds of Thought: Navigating Unwanted Mental Intrusions

Thoughts are like clouds—they appear, drift by, and sometimes gather into a storm.

From time to time, thoughts arise that don't quite represent who I am, as they can be vile sometimes. Not intentionally, but they're there to be reckoned with.

I found myself wanting to change my environment one day, so I went to a local coffee shop. The space was small, barely gasping for natural light as it faced away from the sun. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of cups. I ordered my coffee and found an empty seat on a long bench shared among three separate tables.

It took me a few minutes to get into the zone and begin writing. Once I did, everything else faded away, and I was practically non-existent. It would take a grand disturbance to break my flow. That's when I felt a vibration from the bench.

Glancing sideways, I saw a person eating a burrito. Each bite seemed aggressive, and the bench shook with his movements. A surge of discomfort and stress washed over me. "Why is he eating so aggressively?" I thought, trying to refocus on my writing. But my attention kept drifting back to him.

Minutes passed, and my irritation grew. Finally, he took his last bite, sipped his coffee, and hurriedly left. A sense of relief washed over me. Usually, such moments don't bother me—except for loud chewing, which drives me up the wall. But this was an odd observation to dwell on.

The Thought

When I got home, I realized my irritation could have been influenced by various factors: perhaps his emotions, my personal triggers, or simply being interrupted from my writing. Pinpointing the exact reason wasn't important. What mattered was how I responded to those thoughts.

If I had approached the guy and commented on his eating, that would have solidified the thought. Luckily, I didn't. The thought remained just a thought, like a cloud passing by without releasing its rain.

The Action

When enough clouds gather, they eventually release their content. Similarly, a single thought can arise, and if fixated on, accumulate more thoughts, leading to action.

That initial thought was a cloud. Had I fixated on it, forming reasons, ideas, and speculations, I might have stirred up enough emotion to act. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, and the thought drifted away.

The Reflection

Thoughts come and go. They only define us when acted upon. Just as a cloud is innocent until it releases its rain, thoughts are harmless until acted upon.

I blamed myself for those thoughts about a stranger, feeling vile. But then I realized, those thoughts weren't truly mine—I didn't actively formulate them; they just arose. If I had sat there, actively formulating sinister thoughts about him, that would be different.

In the end, thoughts that come and go don't define me—my actions do. I blamed myself unnecessarily. Why should I blame myself for something I didn't actively do? If I had, I'd take the blame. But that wasn't the case, and no harm was done. So, I'm off the hook.

The thoughts do not define one, actions do.