The musical Hadestown has a line spoken by Hermes in the reprise of the song Wait For Me:
[HERMES, spoken]
Meanest dog you’ll ever meet –
It ain’t the hound dog in the street.
He bares his teeth and tears your skin
But brother, that’s the worst of him.
The dog you really got to dread
Is the one that howls inside your head.
It’s him whose howling drives men mad
And a mind to its undoing.
It always struck a note with me, and as I grow older, it becomes clearer. I never once thought my mind would become the place of my greatest weakness. It is too precise. It analyses, compares and creates patterns for me. It has always been a reliable source of filtering and objective thought. Although the occasional bias may enter, it never stays long because curiosity always helps me flesh things out.
But the same mind that helps me navigate the world also convinces me not to enter it.
Replaying embarrassing scenarios in my head right before bed. Overthinking every small interaction or action long after it’s been done.
Funnily enough, my mind can sometimes stagnate me from experiences. And I’m not talking about breaking one’s own values or morals, but something as simple as picking up a new hobby, learning a new skill, or asking a question. Concerns of whether I’m too old, whether I should know better, or what people would think. And as someone who has quite a nonchalant attitude towards other people’s perceptions of me, my mind becoming a stumbling block in this area.
But life is lived through trial and error, getting back up, and continuing to move forward. That’s when things begin to click or, at least, put you on the right path.
I realise a lot of things in life can’t be explained. Energy, consciousness, happiness, and joy—for some of these things we don’t even fully grasp the mechanisms behind them, let alone explain what they are.
Yet I hope that overanalysing every piece of my life, somehow will make life act sensibly.
Ripping off the bandage here; I have missed a lot of chances, even at a young age, because I conceded to the fear in my mind rather than the possibilities in the world. I wonder what would have become of me had I stopped looking at fear as a guiding principle for how to live.
Whether through the experiences of others or my own, things rarely play out the same way twice. If the old me saw me now, I doubt she would recognise me despite my reservations in taking chances.
And it’s funny because every impactful experience I have gained in my life was because I did something I never would have dared to do. Yet my mind still plays the same trick on me that maybe it’s better to be safe and secure.
The cliché line of “leaving your comfort zone” never did me any favours, even when uttered by loved ones. There is a reason one stays there; it’s comforting.
But now I think of comfort zones as bedrooms. In life, we all have those rooms to rest and recharge. But just as a bedroom is connected to a living room, a kitchen, and other rooms, I started looking at life the same way. An ecosystem where we extend our comfort zones, not by immediately leaving the room and walking into a jungle, but by exploring the simple things around us: trying a new fashion style, changing up a workout routine, volunteering with animals, or complimenting a stranger.
Now that I have started clearing the debris from the lenses of my brain, I can say:
A clear mind is discerning. One that understands that living deeply means accepting that unpredictability and risk are inseparable from life itself.
ArrowsInk 
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