I am not quite sure how I got to the mental project I am in now. I guess reading about meditator monks' modified brain structure detected by Richard Davidson in Madison got me started. I was confident that the nature of thoughts was independent of brain structure. I just assumed that thinking thoughts of being down, sour, angry, spiteful was bad for me but I never put two and two together. Sure, hot rage or potato chip lust felt different from playing lullabies in my head. I did know that I had circuits in me that can kick in to instantly getting me running from fire. Now it seems quite understandable that being alerted to fires and saber-tooth tigers often will enlarge my amygdala or hippocampus or something.
Meditation coaches frequently say that watching my own thought stream opens me up to being caught up in one idea or story or another. I am sitting there following my breath consciously and carefully when I suddenly get the impulse to review my taxes and be sure I paid them. The coaches and gurus use the phrase "It's just thoughts" to help me observe and note what came to mind but without immediately scrambling for my checkbook. See, that was where I had a problem. I got an IMPULSE but they don't usually arrive in my head as words. I accuse my impulses of sneaking into my mind without using words and that format disguised them effectively.
Now, I am all engaged with the idea that it is only a few cells in my head that urge me to do something the rest of me is doubtful about. Those few cells feel like they are right about here, in my head. I am bigger than they are and much smarter and stronger. I may indulge those tiny cells but I am in charge. I may deny their request. They are just thoughts, after all. I have other thoughts that deserve satisfaction, too.
