Note: This is an excerpt of “Monkey Mind Is The Devil.” The original post has been re-published in full at Humanitou Yoga.
If there’s such a character as the devil I think I’ve found it in the formless beast that is my thinking mind. That bleepin’ bleep has kept me up well past my bedtime, stressed my sleep thin till dawn, then woke me in a haze of worry. For what?
I know you know the feeling. It’s that conversation earlier in the day that felt not-quite-right, the one we’re still analyzing and for no good reason.
Those words you said and/or heard, and the speculation that follows about the other person’s perception of it all — and of you. The mind’s swirl for hours, even days, rehashing what happened. Inching a bit further off-center of truth with each pass, twisting you up.
That monkey mind is the enemy if there is one. It sweats us, beats us down, makes us feel insecure, and like it’s our only hope for surviving the desert it put us in. It’s Stockholm Syndrome stirred from within our own skulls.
Bio: I write about humanness and connection, yoga and creativity. I collect and share wisdom on these topics through Humanitou conversations. I write poetry, make photographs and teach yoga. The most challenging and critical of all: I’m a dad to two sons.