I do a lot of thinking, writing, singing, playing, talking. I come from a line of talkers. The longer I'm on the planet it seems to me the talking, the making of words is not the main show, probably just a side-show. The only show we can really get our hands around.
The main show is beyond us. Beyond our feeble imaginings. There are bigger things afoot, bigger things we are implicated in, bigger things we are carried along in, things we can't understand; we don't get what's really going on. We just don't. Not made to understand.
And maybe we can't know. We have to bury some truths deep in the ground, deep in our consciousness. We need to carry on in the world. We carry secrets. We hide them, we can't face them.
Some of this is just basic survival. There are toxic thoughts. Thoughts that can destroy us. There are toxic actions. Toxic words and feelings. There are so many things to avoid. Other things to embrace. How to know which is which and what to do? That's some of the figuring we left with.
So we think, write, sing, play, talk. It's a sideshow. Not the thing. But it has to be enough. Is it enough? Who knows? We could talk about it, but sometimes the talk is just chatter, and sometimes it's best to embrace the silence.