Dear Socrates, I don’t think you took this far enough.
Not only is the unexamined life not worth living, or at best, not well-lived, but I’d wager that too often premature death is also the result.
I spend a lot of my free moments writing down pieces of my mind. I scratch them on paper, or in my phone’s note app. I hold them up to the God of the universe, and ask, “See, can you make sense of this for me? I sure as heck can’t!”
I invite him into my examination, where often layers are removed, free and unfolded. If nothing else, at least then I walk away shrugging my shoulders in peace.
The examined life keeps me alive.
I’ve honed this practice over the decades. Little did I know how much I’d need it through a year of trauma, and the resulting PTSD. How could I even hope to survive without this practice right now?
It slows the hustle in my mind. The tangled nonsense intent on running on fumes. There are just too many thoughts banging against the sides of my skull, out of control.
I’d love them to evaporate, to still and quiet. But that isn’t the path I am on. The path of healing the mind is usually long and tedious for those intrepid enough to go down it.
It is essential to process our everyday life, while making a difference. But in some seasons and through various physical health and mental health issues, practicing examination keeps us tethered to life.
Have you ever gone through a season, world-changer, where it felt like processing and examination (such as through journaling or therapy) was essential to just survive? Tell me!
If you are struggling with suicidal ideation, please read this: Are You Suicidal?