I was in a discussion this week with some people who experience “chatter” inside their heads, and it was interesting to contrast that with those who do not.

Myself, I have to be pretty upset or overwhelmed in order to feel that internal chatter, a rattlingly incessant seeming dialogue about how I might wish it to be different, or what I wish I had said or done, or chewing on what I think about a certain topic. Every once in a while my busy thinker will keep me up or awake me in the night – we call it the gerbil wheel, going, going, but getting nowhere– but gratefully that is the exception for me, not the rule.

Those who confessed they experienced more chatter lived alone, and I do not.  My husband and I do talk, so I have a verbal outlet that helps me process things, which not everyone has. That said, I really try to avoid simply downloading mental detritus on him, so I need to sort out most things on my own. Additionally, I have conversations with our daughters and a sister, where we share feelings and what’s going on, but if I’m fair, I’m more often on the listening end of those.

I take in a lot of information, more than most people do, I’m told; I am alert to a whole level of subtext that most people don’t even notice. And I spend a lot of time alone, regardless of being married. I engage in solo pursuits like praying and painting and listening and walking and cooking and reading.  I get plenty of quiet time during which I can process input as well.

I would have to say that my thought is exceptionally quiet most of the time. Not a pin drops in there for hours at a time. Unbidden thoughts will come, which I’ll execute or ponder, but then I revert quickly back to quiet.

So this post is me examining how that is so, and hopefully if I can identify why, you can get clues as to how to quiet your thought better as well, if too much mental chatter is feeling taxing to you. I came up with these three points, that contribute to my quietude of thought:

First, I attribute my lack of internal chatter to focusing on God a lot. God, as divine Mind, is my center of attention, so what my human mind has to say is not so interesting to me, nor as effective in solving things anyway.  I have ingrained habits of not needing to figure things out for myself, and turning to God, the divine Mind, to do it instead– so much so that honestly my own perturbed thought doesn’t pester me much. Because I let God be large and in charge, I don’t take on a false sense of responsibility either. Stress and strain are the result of two opposing forces, but when you acknowledge only one Force (God) those feelings disappear.

Secondly, I give myself a lot of grace. I don’t beat myself up. I chunk things down into small action items and don’t over tax myself.  I’m not judgy or even much of a striver. I try to have three main goals each day, not trying to get myself to do more. Baby steps have gotten me far, and I’m happy to trust the process, and let things work out. I have schooled myself not to be a worrier, since I figured out early on, with my mother and sister as both worriers, that it is a colossal waste of time. Fear too, is like worry amplified, worse for you than whatever you are afraid of. So I abstain from that as much as I can, refusing to get sucked down, and getting lost in those rabbit holes.

I am swift in giving other people grace too. I keep what I’m doing within my own realm of influence, and know that it is enough for me to be my own best self.  I don’t need to have an opinion on what everyone else should be doing. I can trust their direct link to God to make their needed progress. I gently work on my own self instead.

Third, I’ve learned to write a lot down, so mental chatter becomes unnecessary, since I am not carrying a load of it around. I have an ongoing to-do list; I keep ongoing habit trackers; I have a calendar for appointments; I write daily in a journal; I take notes on what I’m reading; I take notes on the Bible Lesson; I write this blog’s over 6,100 (and counting) posts. On a regular basis, I paint out feelings and emotions, or issues I might be tempted to wrestle with. I process it all and get it out of me, and set it down so to speak, so there is no pent up chatter to clack around and around and around.  I may have a million ideas, but I don’t try to remember them; I simply write them down, and they are there when I need them. Even if you have a lot going on, you can feel harmonious and serene every step of the way.

I’m grateful I feel so incredibly peaceful, and my first thought is that it is a luxury and a privilege, since my shelter and next meal are assured. But I also need to acknowledge that I’ve done the work to train myself to be tranquil, by careful, conscious choice, and by continuous conditioning.

I don’t entertain a loop of complaints or frustrations that I feed and savor. I minimize them instead of giving them voice. I keep turning away from them to what is higher, better, more enlightened. I’m focused on growing, on helping, on connecting, on inspiring, on being creative, on healing the world.

I find you can’t think two things at the same time. While you are giving all your attention to God (or good) and being obedient to the directives that surface from that, you can let the rest go. The more peaceful you are, the more you can accomplish, because the thought waves are not clogged with debris, and things can seamlessly unfold.

So are you enjoying all that incessant chatter, or would you rather escape it to reside in a blissfully quiet oasis? I think the world needs more of the later, and we can get there, one person and one thought at a time.