In a very real way what I think of my thoughts is what I think of myself. In both honest and not so honest humility I keep within pictures of myself that are characterized by my beliefs. Those parts of my life and my thoughts are so deeply interior as to be nearly incapable of being shared. But I deem them the core of who I really am. These kinds of thoughts are what I’m talking about here – the things that only You and I know about me.
When I sit in silence and contemplate my life there are hundreds of surface memories of events and occasions, but they are not who I am. These are accidents adjacent to my existence. Closer to the truth is an examination of what I thought or what I now think during such events or occasions. When I fathom what I think and feel during these times, especially as they relate to my mortality,I approach a truer picture of me.
I think my thoughts fall loosely into certain categories. Some of my thoughts are about my relationship, in this life, with You, and Your relationship with me. What I think about these thoughts is that they lack the complete self-surrender on my part that You offer to me on Your part; but my consolation is that my desire to please You does please You. Some of my thoughts are about my relationships with those closest to me – family and friends. What I think about these thoughts is that while I never give up on my pokes and jabs at trying to reach selfless, unconditional love and compassion for them I am not above being manipulative when my own self-interests are at stake. Some of my thoughts are about people who are not so close to me. What I think of these thoughts is that they are often judgmental, self-righteous, and hypocritical. I frequently believe only my way is the right way and I pay less attention to those who are not, in some way, aligned with this. My consolation is that I can be sympathetic. Empathy often moves me.
I ponder many contradictory thoughts that I will probably spend a lifetime puzzling over. I wonder about the relevance of so much trivia with which we clutter our lives; and about how immensely precarious is this life which offers us the chance to love. Isn’t it interesting how energetically and how often I try to probe the mind of God yet cannot even begin to understand my own?