What A Mind Looks Like

A few years ago I saw an unremarkable movie called Dreamcatcher. It's based on an unremarkable book by Stephen King (I love some of King's books; this one was okay--not great, but okay). The one thing about the film that really stuck with me, though, is the representation of a particular character's mind.In the course of the film, this character--Jonesy--is invaded by an alien parasite. The alien wants to find out specific information from this character and reads his mind. But Jonesy's mind is like a warehouse with file cabinets, and he is able to hide the "file" the alien is looking for. The scenes in the mind were my favorite and they got me to thinking about what the inside of my mind might look like.

I can tell you this: it's probably sloppy. Sloppy, but organized. I have a system, but only I know how it works. I'm thinking that it's like the attic of an old house. Some slats in the roof are missing, so a decent amount of light streams in, but there are plenty of dark, dusty corners too. I'm guessing that there are probably file cabinets in there, you know, to keep the facts straight. I imagine a file cabinet full of all the stuff I learned in elementary school. I have a file for the times tables, a file for all the religious stuff I learned in Catholic schools like Holy Days of Obligation, the Seven Sacraments, the Seven Deadly Sins, etc. There's a file full of mathematical formulas like the Pythagorean theorem, BaseXRate=Part, the quadratic equation (I can't see that last one real well. I think this part of the attic has water damage).

In a brighter corner, there's a big basket full of songs. It's not organized in any way, but everything is easily accessible. I imagine that each song looks like an Atari cartridge, and that each day, a different cartridge gets shuffled into the song player. There is always music playing in my head. My mind's ear is a high-tech piece of equipment. It plays my mind's soundtrack, which is probably the most interesting thing about my mind. Bits of remembered conversations, movie lines, song clips, and things I want to say (or didn't say), all vie for air space. And my mind's ear has the ability to play back lots of different kinds of things on command. Everything from entire musicals to my mother's voice to the sounds of different instruments to the part of Family Guy that made me laugh last night. The mind's ear helps me remember things and allows me to do voices and impressions. It's probably the best-kept part of my brain.

There's a dusty screen up there that acts as my mind's eye. It's not that great a set-up. It works, but it's not very detailed. It's pretty good with faces, but not that great with locations. In fact, the channel that supplies me with information on how to get places is pretty much out all the time. I think squirrels chewed through the cable.

Then there's the stuff I use every day. I imagine that this stuff is in tote bags hanging on pegs. In real life, I keep my life organized by having different bags for different things. I have a bag for work, a bag for church choir, a bag for tutoring jobs, a bag for the radio show. When I'm leaving the house, I choose the bag(s) I will need for the day and take them with me. In each bag are the important objects, information, and books I need for each job. Inside my mind, I imagine that all of the facts and skills I need for a certain task are in the tote bag for that task. The teaching tote bag, for example, has musical facts, anecdotes, classroom management skills, ideas for projects and homeworks, mnemonic devices, and a buttload of patience.

Finally, and most importantly, are the organ-grinder's monkey and the Tinkerbell-ish fairy. My mind isn't a still-life. It's full of activity. The monkey runs around and pulls files out of cabinets. He overturns the music basket, pulls the tote bags off their pegs and generally causes a ruckus. He makes me funny. He makes me say random things. He shows me a funny cartoon that causes me to laugh out loud in the supermarket. The fairy, on the other hand, makes me creative. She flies around the attic, looking at different things, finding ways to make new things out of them. She helps me turn ideas into stories. She's the one who suggested I write this blog about the inside of my mind. She sprinkles fairy dust on ordinary stuff, turning it magic.

What is your mind like? Think about it. Take a picture of it. Is it an attic or a basement? A wide open field or a small room? Is it light or dark? Does it look just like your desktop wallpaper? Or your screensaver? Is it a place that you avoid? Or the most comfortable place in your life. My mind may be dusty and cluttered, and it may have a slightly hyper monkey running around in it, and weird music playing 24/7, but it is the finest palace imaginable.