I hate those words . . .
The problem is what if this is true? What if this is all in our head like everything else is? The fears and the doubts and especially insecurity are in hour head, which I get, and which is not to say that none of them are valid. Instead, I say everything is valid if we believe in it.
I say reality and belief is not always the same thing, which I get as well, which is why I ask the main question in the first place.
What if this is true?
What if all this is really in our head?
What if all of our big beliefs were suddenly proven to be untrue? What if all of our major practices and routines were suddenly proven to be pointless? Then we found out we’ve wasted years and countless hours, we lost time and money and friendships as well, all because of worried abut something that never existed. Would we listen to someone if we believed so deeply in our ideas? Or would we feel the need to justify ourselves, over and over, again and again, because we didn’t want to be wrong. Also, the last thing we would want is to create a hole in our personal self.
I say this because sometimes the truth seems more like a threat, which is why so many of us feel comfortable believing the lies. But what if this is true? What if this is all in our head and in fact, we could somehow navigate away from these ideas and be free from our own self-imprisonment?
Everything is in our head. I get that.
I also get that beliefs can be limiting. The thoughts we have, our opinions, and our taste is in our head too. So are the unrealistic concerns, which we spend hours preparing for.
The same can be said for our readiness for retaliation against something that may not even be accurate. This is in our head too.
Or take for example, the memories we have from long ago. They have been left upon us like tiny imprints and indentations, mapping the scores from when we were kids. They are the lessons of personal programs, taught to us by shame and tiny humiliations that have become overgrown and taken over.
Think about the miscalculation of memory when it comes to our perception. Think about the trained bias in our opinions that have been predicated upon old memories and old recollections, which may or may not be accurate —yet still, we press forward as if all of it were true. And of course this is true; it would have to be true because why else would we believe if it weren’t true?
But what if none of this were true? What if this was only true to us and meanwhile, there was an entirely different reality on the other side of our opinion?
Deep down, there is a child in all of us that remembers everything. Deep down is a well of motivation and inspiration, which is neither good nor bad; it’s just a source of energy that needs a direction to flow.
What if this is true? What if this was all in our head?
Which it is true and I get that but are the words really helpful?
Or, is there a slight insult because we’ve believed ourselves for so long, which is why we fight to prove our perception is accurate because otherwise there would be an actual hole in our personality that we could never possibly understand or explain.
The way things were and the way we learned how to maneuver through crowds, trying to find our place in the circle to feel like we belong, and the worries we have of not being able to fit is only a mental construct.
The trouble is in this tiny little sector of our memory. This is where old recollections predict the mishaps of new beginnings.
This is what holds people back from ever moving forward. This is where the deception of our perception gets in the way and intercepts our ability to move or hope without the unhappy predictions to keep us back.
Some people call the birthplace of anxiety. Some call it the epicenter of depression. Some people look at us and say, “It’s all in your head,” which I get it —it’s all in our head, fine, but so?
Wouldn’t this mean if something was real in our head, wouldn’t it would be real to us in real life, even if it wasn’t?
Is it realistic to ask someone to change their version of reality?
If I saw something, like say, if I were hallucinating but I didn’t know that I was hallucinating and yet, I swore a person standing next to me, but yet, you came along to tell me “No,” because there really wasn’t; Meanwhile, I can see this person as clear as I can see anything else—what would my reaction be when you explained no one is there?
There would be an unexplained hole in my truth, which would not and could not be acceptable. I see something; therefore it has to be real even if it isn’t. Right?
Say I had a strong prediction that something terrible was about to happen; and say that I planned for this. Say that I prepared for my response and my defense. Say that I knew deep in my heart something was about to go terribly wrong; and say it was something tragic and uncontrollable, or catastrophic, or even worse.
Say this is based on my predictions which have been based on my past exposures that have created my fears. Or say this is something I cannot explain or cannot control and the fears become too much to allow me to think straight.
What would it look like if someone came along and told me I was just plain crazy? Would I believe them?
Or, would I just believe they do not and cannot understand? How would it feel or seem if someone walked up and said, “You’re wrong,” or, “It’s all in your head,” but meanwhile, how could I believe them if I deeply believed in my predictions with all of my heart?
Somewhere in us all is a memory. Somewhere in is our truth. Somewhere in me or in you is a little child that wants to play or just “Be” without judgement and without the need for hesitation.
I ever tell you about the first time I realized I was getting a new pair of sneakers. I’m not sure how old I was.
I just remember the first cognizant memory of me being this little kid in a mall and Mom buying me a pair of blue sneakers from a store called Buster Brown.
The name of the sneakers was called Zips. I swore they would make me run faster and jump higher.
I think I might have even said this. I think I told people and I remember running around, literally believing I was faster and stronger until someone told me, nope, you’re still the same uncoordinated, unathletic little kid.
See the hole this creates?
I guess this stopped my fascination. My guess is this idea limited my ability to dream and moreover, prevented me from future excitements but somewhere, deep within me (I swear) there is a kid that could use that feeling of a new pair of sneakers.
However, the idea that I can’t has been imposed upon me; therefore, the idea that I can’t ever feel that way again is only in my head.
This is how insecurity works. Insecurity is in imprint upon us which holds us back and predicts the opinions and the sincerity of others. This is where our expectations betray us because of our belief system; however, the hardest thing to change is someone’s belief system; therefore, insecurity becomes a tough obstacle to overcome.
I spent 8 hours in a mental health first aid class yesterday. I stayed mainly quiet about this afterwards because I saw my own relation to the topics of depression and other sublets in the mental health category.
Insecurity is a voice in our head, which might only whisper, but in the depth of silence, a whisper can be the loudest thing we ever hear. Meanwhile, no one asks for this.
Truth is I’m still that little kid sometimes, just waiting for that feeling of getting a new pair of sneakers —so I can run faster, jump higher, and feel better.
The trouble is there really is nothing stopping us from doing any of the above, —except for our thinking of course because time and time again, it has been proven that if we believe something then it then it must be so (even if it isn’t.)
I have to say it though.
I still remember my first real pair of brand new sneakers . . .