I tend to overthink things. When I send a text message to somebody, and that person doesn't respond quickly, I think that I have somehow offended her. If I complete a blog post, publish it, and don't get any views, I think that it's not any good. If my son disappears from my sight in a public place, I think that he's been kidnapped. Overthinking, overthinking, overthinking.
Most of the time, the person to whom I send the text message had her phone turned off. The blog post gets 15 views after a couple days. My son is in the public restroom peeing. And my overthinking has only caused me stress. Nothing more.
Saint Marty needs to worry less, celebrate more.
by: Mary Oliver
Have I lived enough?
Have I loved enough?
Have I considered Right Action enough, have I
come to any conclusion?
Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude?
Have I endured loneliness with grace?
I say this, or perhaps I'm just thinking it.
Actually, I probably think too much.
Then I step out into the garden,
where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man,
is tending his children, the roses.