“The only reason some people get lost in thought is because it’s unfamiliar territory.” – Paul Fix

Think about it. Think it over. Think on it. All things we’ve been told more times than we could probably count. But, I’m willing to wager for each of us, it’s a challenge to implement this seemingly simple belief and incorporate it into our daily lives.

For many of us, we exist in a place of mental limbo; dealing with and assimilating information one morsel at a time. We grasp knowledge as it is made available to us and sort through it; judging it and determining its relevance in our hectic lives.

It’s like a game of Clue. We venture from one day to the next making attempts at mastering this convoluted life and, through a process that is rather hit or miss, we make stabs (pun intended) at solving the series of puzzles from which life is constructed. We jot down mental lists in the game rooms of our brain marking the cards we hold and the clues we’ve garnered constantly striving to gain clarity. We borrow and assimilate each others’ information and add it to our growing arsenal in a quest to reach greater awareness.

Except when we don’t. Except when we seem completely incapable of or unwilling to see the cards the Universe shoves in our direction in an attempt to educate us. We become enthralled by the diversions of the world and miss the clues, both subtle and obvious, that are proffered by both the Greater Power and mere mortals alike. We find ourselves lost in the minutia of daily life and it’s innumerable distractions and lose the opportunity to grasp the precious data that surrounds us. And let’s face it: if you’re not paying attention when your opponent flashes the Mrs. Peacock card at you, is it his fault or yours? That’s what I thought.

Cindy–not actually her name; as I’m sure you’ve figured out I generally change the names of both the innocent and the guilty–is a wonderful person I know. Wonderful and more than a little dense. She is, in her words, the sort you have to hit over the head with a cast-iron skillet. She just doesn’t pick up on cues. You know the type; she has bruised ribs from all the elbows constantly being jabbed in her side by well-meaning loved ones hoping to stave off her latest verbal blunder. She’s the sort who doesn’t notice it’s snowing until she actually starts her car and sees that her windshield is blanketed with a thick sheet of white snow. She’s endearingly oblivious. God bless her.

In the interest of honest self exploration, I’ll admit that–while I am generally nothing if not the perfect picture of diplomacy–I have on occasion heard someone nearby saying something incredibly idiotic…only to discover my lips are moving. Oh, Holl. God bless me

But, unlike my charming silliness, Cindy’s chronic cluelessness can become a little frustrating. Not so much because of the fact that her brain functions sans filter–your bruised feelings heal almost immediately because she’s just that lovable. The frustration comes more from an on-going ability to constantly and with unerring precision chose one life circumstance after another that in no way, shape or form holds anything but disaster for her. Again, God bless her. (A phrase you find yourself muttering with regularity in her presence. Did I mention we love Cindy. We do.)

She makes phenomenally poor decisions that to even the least observant of us, seem fraught with catastrophe. But she is oblivious, rushing headlong into increasingly horrible situations with nary a thought for the possible consequences they’ll inevitably offer. GBH (God bless her. Let’s face it–acronizing a term that’s becoming astonishingly frequent…well…that’s just good sense. I do have nerve damage in my hand and can only type so much. Although typing that explanation and this subsequent sentence would likely have negated the necessity for said acronym. But, I am nothing if not adorably frustrating in my own right. I dare any of you to disagree with that statement!;))

What kinds of poor decisions is Cindy so prone to making? I’m so glad you asked… She has lost no paltry amount of money to multi-level marketing “business opportunities.” She acquires a string of wayward souls with nothing to offer her but grief and neediness. Who are these souls? Scores of lazy ex-boyfriends, mooching BFF’s , and exploiting employers. She jumps into each and every situation with a feckless abandon borne of a ridiculously inordinate amount of faith; faith that somehow her judgment has evolved into something less than absurd. We ❤ Cindy. GBH…

From bad dye jobs to depleted savings, Cindy has all the earmarks of a serial reactionist. She leaps from initial idea to implemented act overlooking the entire research and development stage that seems to be so innate a function for the rest of us. She neither hears nor sees the indicators that seem to flash with no degree of subtly that the road she seems to intent on traversing is headed straight for Heartbreak City. She seems determined to play the game of Clue without the aide of her fellow players and the knowledge they have to offer.  Forget the detective’s pad–she’s wingin’ it. And I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not working out too well .

“People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.”  -Soren Kierkegaard

I asked her one day if she didn’t ever tire of disappointments that so inevitably follow so many of her decisions. She looked me dead and the eye; her face the perfect picture of…well…cluelessness.The fact that her decisions had, to no small degree, created her circumstances, had never occurred to her; that she had greater control over the quality of her life and those in it had never crossed her mind. The endless hours of grief she had experienced that so evidenced to the rest of us a lack of quality in her decisions, had gone completely unnoticed by our dear Cindy. I feel the frustration mounting just thinking of it. GBH.

Cindy’s only real comment was something to the effect that she hated that dreaded state of limbo; of not having made a decision. She loathed the purgatory of having unresolved issues and an undetermined path, so she oftentimes jumped on board with whatever decision seemed best upon that briefest, most initial of impressions. She took action, even at the expense of it being the wrong action.  She saw this period in which a wise person would acquire and interpret information as a formality of sorts and acted solely out of initial perceptions which–let’s face it–are seldom accurate and rarely worthy of any real action. You will never hear me gainsay the value of good intuition. Good being the operative word. And, to be honest, when God was doling out intuition, he overlooked our dear Cindy.

So Cindy continues on her jagged path of un-learned lessons and repeated errors in judgment and causes herself and those around her unending grief. I watch her and hurt a bit. I also watch and allow her to be a reminder to me not to get so lost in the peripheral that I fail to see the signs the Universe and my cherished loved ones so selflessly provide. It’s a challenge and requires more than a little introspection which can on occasion hold about as much appeal as the dreaded root canal, but it promises a much greater return in the long run than the converse. I think we all have Cindys in our lives, but maybe with a little more card-sharing and some loving words of wisdom, we can avoid the mistakes she seems so wont to make. GBH.:)



“No problem can withstand the assault of sustained thinking.”  -Voltaire