So here is the deal: I don’t know what you think. There’s really no way for me to know. Unless of course you tell me. But if you are silent and am not sharing your experience with me, I simply cannot know (!) what you think.
What I might be doing in such a situation, is to think (!) I know what you think. And that is really not a very good idea.
I can also project my fears onto you. If I am afraid of dogs, in a situation involving a dog, it’s commonplace that I’d make you afraid of dogs, in my imaginary world. Inside my head.
What often happens to me, when I go all mind-reader, is that I would rapidly proceed to blame you for whatever it is that I think you think. What I think you might think can even become a show-stopper for me. If I believe my thoughts, whatever it is that I think you think, I am headed down a rabbit hole and that’s simply no place for a human being. If I become really adept at this mind-reading sham I might very well use it to effectively stop myself from living full out. Because of what I think you, or others, might think.
Do you mind-read? Do you know when you do it? Can you tell? Does it serve you?
I know it doesn’t serve me. Not the way I’ve made use of it. So what if, I stopped thinking I know what you think? Perhaps I can ask instead? What might become possible then? What might I learn – about me, about you?
Welcome to my humble abode, where the underlying tone centers around being gentle to oneself. On Sundays I share thoughts on how I do gentle, and I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts in this series.