I think I can. I think, I think, I think. Will I win though?

Perhaps the cosmos does pay attention to my grumblings. Sometimes.

"It is a curse, man. Nobody listens to me" I told a student yesterday.

That was yesterday.

As Miss O'Hara said, today was another day.  It was a sunny morning when I started driving to campus, became foggy midway, then overcast at the end.  An hour later, the fog and the clouds gave way to brilliant sunshine.  Like a kid in a classroom, I looked forward to play time in the sun after school ended.  Play time for me meant, of course, a walk by the river.

But, by the time I came home, the sun decided it had had enough with us Oregonians and partially hid behind a lonely but big grey cloud.  I knew I would not have the sun's warmth to keep me company. But, at least the river wasn't hiding behind anything else.  I was off to the races, as they say.

Walking by the river, I am often lost in my own thoughts.
Of ideas.
Of classes.
Of people.
Of the past.
Of plans.
And, most of all, I simply walk.

"Helooooo" said a voice that broke my thoughts of nothing.  It was a woman, perhaps a few years older than me, on a bicycle, and waving at me. Along with her a man about her age on another bike.  They both slowed and stopped.

I had no idea who they were.  Neighbors that I have forgotten?  Nope. Who could they be?

I waved out anyway.

"Are you the one who writes the editorials in the paper?"

Phew!  A relief.  I didn't know them after all. I relaxed.

"Yes."

"We have seen you often on the bikepath and I always told my husband that you are that writer.  I told him recently that if we saw you again, we would stop and say hello to you."

I thanked them.  They said more nice things before they resumed their biking.  I continued with my walking.

Yes, this is the latest of the evidence to negate my complaint that nobody listens to me.  I know there are people who do. Who read what I have written. Sometimes even implement what I suggest.

Yet, why do I have to complain that I suffer from a Cassandra Curse?  Or that I ail from a Rodney Dangerfield-like "I don't get no respect?"

Most of the rest of the walk was about nothing but this analysis of the self.  Before I knew it, I was back home. Five miles of thinking about ... I have no idea, though, on what exactly I thought!

I wish I could locate the switch in the brain and turn off the thinking. I imagine that my forehead will blink a sign "not for hire" after that switch is turned off.  The brain will simply stop thinking.  It will just be.  I wonder what that would be like--to not think.
To walk without thinking.
To cut tomatoes and not think.
To watch a sitcom and not think.
To shit without thinking.
To drive without thinking.

Nah. I think the cosmos will then stop listening to me!

Thinking
By Walter D. Wintle
If you think you are beaten, you are
If you think you dare not, you don't,
If you like to win, but you think you can't
It is almost certain you won't.

If you think you'll lose, you're lost
For out of the world we find,
Success begins with a fellow's will
It's all in the state of mind.

If you think you are outclassed, you are
You've got to think high to rise,
You've got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.

Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But soon or late the man who wins
Is the man WHO THINKS HE CAN!