Thought Drainage
by M.M. Lewis, December 2003
For once, the flow of thoughts and memories is uninhibited. My usual rules and regulations about what I can think are abolished for the night; anything is fair game in this much-needed mental cleansing. A semester-long buildup has at last been let free, and I adore the liberty I’ve rediscovered in pondering matters both trivial and important one at a time. No nonsense about prioritizing—this is my chance to let my mind go where it will, taking me on a journey to find a self that has been pushed behind and piled under an endless succession of worries and concerns. This is my chance to find peace.
First come the feelings evoked by a strand of Christmas lights in the room I’m “sleeping” in. As I thought of home (I put lights up in my own room every year) I got a bit homesick, and from there was reminded of a trip I took as a twelve-year-old, far away from my parents and desperately lonesome. It occurred to me that as I’ve grown up and spent time at college, I get that panicked longing not when I stay at other people’s houses but rather when life seems too much to handle. I still expect that my parents will have all the answers; they’ll know what to say and do to quiet those agonizing fears of mine.
Tonight, I’m emptying as much as I can. Sleep isn’t a concern. Here, in this room, where great floods of my mind have been released, my heart and soul are at peace for the first time in many months. In some way, I have communed with the Infinite; I have offered a prayer such as I could. And in return I have been blessed to “hear the pleasing word of God, yea, the word which healeth the wounded soul” (Jacob 2:8). Tonight I have felt the loving arms of my Heavenly Father.
Some missionary photos make me think of how much I’ve grown up in the last year and a half. Though far from mature, I have finally been able to recognize when I’ve been wrong and acted foolishly (despite how ridiculously long it seems to take me to reach such a conclusion). I wrote in my journal last September that I hoped I would calm down, become more graceful, by the time I get married. Now I can see that by some unmerited blessing, I have been able to exert something of a peaceful influence on those surrounding me. It was a gift unlooked for but tremendously appreciated. It’s given me a sense of who I am and what I can do as a daughter of God.
How do I define success? Has my college experience thus far been a success? In terms of academics, many people would just laugh at me. My grades are far from perfect, and I know I could do a lot better. But what if that’s not the important thing? I’ve learned a million things that could never be measured on a grading scale—how to live on my own, how to make new friendships and repair old ones, how much I love my family, how much my family loves me, how much my Heavenly Father loves me. What are a couple Cs compared to all that?
I wonder if I could learn to paint with oils instead of watercolors.
A few days ago I bought a pocket-sized Book of Mormon in which I’m highlighting every reference to God and Christ. No matter what the world may say, I add my testimony to that of the prophets and Church leaders of our dispensation: this book is true. It is inspired by God.
That train of thought leads to recollections of scripture feasts with my roommate last year, and of the great times we had. Our oft-repeated motto was from the classic Charlotte’s Web—“It’s hard to sleep when your head is full and your stomach is empty." We went through so many loaves of wheat bread in our late-night attempts to at least solve half the problem! Sometimes, if we were daring, we might even try to empty our minds a little bit by taking turns sharing troubles.