You think too much

AI image generated with DallE

If I got a dollar for every time someone told me "You think too much," I'd be filthy rich.

I'd have an old renovated farm in the Flemish Ardennes, a penthouse in Ghent, and a villa with a stunning view somewhere in the south of Europe.

I've heard this phrase so much, I say it before someone else does.

"Yeah, I know, I think too much."

People assume that, especially now with the sabbatical, I’ll even have more time to think.

But if I think about it (pun intended), I don't have more time to think. I have the same time in a day as before. So no, I don't think more because I have more freedom. I think the exact same amount, which is - yes - a lot.

The quality of my thoughts, however, is much better than before.

Two months ago, I had a conversation with my therapist, and she told me (you guessed it right), "Marie, you think too much."

Well, I didn't need a therapist for this insightful observation. But then she said:

"You should start mindfulness. I think it'd really help you."

So I did. I started a mindfulness course.

I'll admit, I was skeptical. Another self development hype. But actually, I'm enjoying it so much. For the past month, I’ve meditated almost every single day. It’s helped more than all the self-help books I’ve read.

It brings peace, clarity, a calmer mind, and occasionally, chaos. It can be highly uncomfortable. Sometimes it downright sucks.

But you learn how to change your relationship with your thoughts. And I'm getting more in touch with my emotions.

Where I used to complain about a lack of emotion, the opposite is happening. But you won't hear me complaining now.

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In my twenties, I was a real party animal.

I went out every weekend. Always hanging out with friends. Never alone. A weekend without plans was unimaginable. I also drank quite a bit.

And at the time, partying and drinking were my way to escape feeling.

Every Friday, I would be super excited, and every Sunday evening, I would lie awake in bed, dreading my Monday.

I'd drag myself through the week feeling numb, only to start the cycle all over again on Friday.

And I guess this is not a unique story.

Now we’ve all gotten older and slowed down a bit in life.

During the pandemic, I convinced myself I’m a home girl. Being at home is my happy place. Partying and drinking? No, I don’t need that anymore. But when COVID-19 regulations lifted, I remained in this home girl phase for a long time.

I told my best friend, somewhere last September:

"The old Marie is dead."

She refused to believe that.

And she was right not to believe it.

Slowly but surely, I’ve found my way back to myself.

I've been having so much fun lately. Festivals, clubbing, cozy dinner parties, and a fantastic ski trip. There have been belly laughs, hugs, deep conversations, and lots of love.

Now my friends say, "We got our Mary back."

I can officially declare: the old Marie never died. She got just a bit lost.

Some captured moments🧡

Mind you, I only have so much extrovertedness to give. My social battery will run flat. So, I now take the time to consciously recharge and retreat into my homegirl habits (which I still love).

The combination of both makes my life much fuller now.

Slow moments

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But here’s the strange part.

I don’t go to sleep on Sundays, dreading my Mondays, on the contrary. But lately, I’ve felt this nagging feeling, this weird emotion, restlessness, and nervousness.

And I started thinking:

Are these emotions I’ve always had, but never allowed myself to feel? Did I go for numbness instead, staring at my laptop and doing meaningless work?

Or are they popping up now because I’ve started to allow my emotions? Because of the meditations?

Am I restless because of this new situation, complete freedom, and opening up to new possibilities?

Is it because I have so many options for things to do that I don’t know what to do with my free time? Although my days fly by so quickly.

I can’t ignore the knot in my stomach. I’m learning to allow these emotions, but it’s an unusual, uncomfortable feeling.

---

So, how to deal?

Well...

I don’t really know, so I’m going travelling. It will be a short five days with the camper and with Lola. I’m not sure where I’ll go yet, but I’m considering a place to surf. I’ll pick up some lessons and try to stand on the plank.

Let’s see what a little saltwater and a camper can do for a restless heart.

Enjoy your week 🧡

With love,
Marie
xxx

P.S. For all the Substack writers here, last week I lost over 250 subscribers overnight. The support desk tells me it's a glitch, and I'll get my subscribers back, but I don't believe it. The same day it happened, I removed a section from my publication. I saw Lucy Werners' story, so I think something similar happened, only in a less damaging way. Be careful when making changes! And don't forget to back up your subscribers every once in a while.