You Never Finish Working on Your Life--Life is a Daily Chore

I noticed this morning that I woke up without the upbeat feelings I've had for the last couple of days. I wasn't "down" either. I was curious, what about the laundry room, I thought? How did I still feel about that? I thought about the laundry room and got no big high about that either.

Oh, well, I thought, I have put a lot of clutter away already and if I want to, and I guess I can always give myself another jolt of jolly good thoughts, and connect them back up to the laundry room. Our brains are such absolute slaves to learned association.

The learned associations have no choice but to connect with one another.  Just by that thought alone, "jolly good" already I felt a "shift." My next thought recalled the laughing out loud I did the other day walking down the stairs. The next thought was recalling the old first feelings of excitement about the laundry room.

And now, just in the act of writing this, all those connections are flashing back and forth at the speed of light in my brain, and I can't even help myself from a really good mood returning (not that I would want to prevent a good mood). My mood just changed from okay to really okay. After I finish this post I'm going to get up and go put something more away in the laundry room, goody goody.

Now, to be honest. I have spent a lot of effort to learn how to focus my thinking where I want to because I spent so many decades in the abject subjection to depression. I am very good at it directing my mind. I am as good at changing my mood as I used to be at staying depressed for weeks at a time.

I can turn away from a down thought as soon as I know I have it, and not return to it, or at least I can keep turning away and turning away, and in just a few minutes my brain is off that direction and in a new direction. But if I can do it so can anyone else. It is a human capacity to direct your own thinking, and control your own emotions, and ultimately, your own life. Human freedom of thought. It is our greatest gift.
A. B. Curtiss