This evening I went to the spa.
The Relaxation Centre, to be precise.
Each time I go there, I feel like I am escaping to a far away place, just for a little while.
There are these wonderful wooden beds there that have a way of holding your weight so you feel like a lead weight. They support you so you don't have to think about your posture, and, in some incredible way, they let you rest.
As I lay there, contemplating the bliss I was in, enjoying relaxing this much in the middle of a normal week, I was very conscious that although my body was relaxed, my mind was still ticking over at its usual rate. I wondered at whether or not I should be able to switch off my thoughts completely and drew a blank. I am not someone who naturally compartmentalises their life in their head - my thoughts flick back and forth, back and forth, each one triggering a new thought or memory.
I wondered at how I might organise my thoughts in an effort to help me relax, and found myself writing in my head.
I was taking notes on all the things I was thinking, proverbially putting pen to paper in order to make some sense of things. I noticed how I could not fully switch off from my surroundings; although incredibly quiet, the spa still felt full of noise - of the sound of the hot tub ticking over in a rhythmical way that I couldn't help but tap my foot along too - while noticing the sound of the splash pool that was at a slightly different pitch to the hot tub. I thought about how I associate images with remembering; I will look at the fridge door and remember what my employer was saying to me the last time I looked at it; I recalled the plans for my weekend which played out like a picture forming in my mind, remembering the little pockets of different things that would be happening over the course of the weekend like words being pulled together from an author's mind onto their blank page.
I concluded my thoughts by thinking about how I would come home and write these things out on this little space, to be read by you, whoever you may be, and thought about how curious it is that I like writing here in a place where I really don't know who is reading my thoughts, but that somehow, that's alright, and I enjoy putting my stream of consciousness into written word.
Quite some time ago, when the man who was to become my fiance, discovered my blog, he e-mailed me saying how he loved my cinematic ramblings. I took slight offence that he described my words as ramblings, but then realised that really, I do think in a rambly way that involves a lot of pictures in my head, and I love being able to get them out of my head and put them here.
I have come to appreciate that having a mind that expresses itself in cinematic ramblings is alright, and something that is just a part of who I am.