Image by Denis Agati from Pixabay

Thoughts we haven’t thought before, previously “un-thought thoughts,” thoughts that feel good to think when they come to mind, can change how we see, feel and experience our self in life—if we continue to give them our attention. But those powerful, life-changing new thoughts only catch our attention when our mind is quiet. How do we quiet our mind? Our mind becomes quiet the moment we’re willing to release the incessant noise of old thoughts. Old thoughts dance around in our head, like corn kernels popping in a popcorn maker, are often so loud and distracting that we can hardly hear our self think, much less pay attention to what anyone else is saying. Old thoughts we use to weigh the pros and cons of some decision we want to make, can go back and forth in our head like a grand game of ping-pong, but fail to give us a new perspective on life no matter what we end up deciding.

Old thoughts convince us nothing new can come into our life. But we decide to intervene on our behalf and allow something new to come into our view that has the power to stop the momentum of old thoughts from creating the same old experiences over and over again. Sometimes our awareness can rise unexpectedly above the fog of distraction and the hmmm of automatic thinking we’ve been listening to, and we suddenly see something we haven’t noticed before. Imagine what we could see if it were our intention to notice more wherever we are—to see something new in the environment around us even if we’re simply standing in line at the market. What if we made it our intention to see something new in someone we’ve known for long time? We can decide to intentionally open space within our mind for new thoughts to enter by meditating, taking a walk in nature, or simply taking a few deep breaths before we think again. When we are ready, which is to say when we don’t resist it, we naturally rise into a higher mental vibration where streams of new thought energy is available to us. We seem to understand more than we did before. We see things differently. We have a more clear and happy view of what is true about our self and life.

The artist, Claude Monet, suggested: “To see we must forget the name of the thing we are looking at.” When we look at anything and name it, including our self, what follows is every mental image that name represents to us. Those images get in our way and we’re unable to see beyond them. From our own self image, to the ideas we hold about our family, friends and coworkers, to how we see others in the world, to what we believe about bugs, insects, plants, animals, cities, and countries, every name we hold in mind is creating our experience of life. We learned the “name game” early. Almost from the moment we entered the world we were told what to call things. Our parents pointed to themselves and said, “Mommy and Daddy.” When we were finally able to vocalize those words, we were rewarded with a smile, hug or kiss from those we loved so much. As a toddler, though we might have been smiling at a fairy or angel the grownups around us couldn’t see, our attention was called back to the world of three-dimensional things because those who wanted us to learn the names believed it would help us learn about the world.

Our learning about the world seemed to promise not only the we’d be more successful in the world, but that the more names we learned, the more we’d please those we loved so much. We learned ball, dish, spoon, rattle, bell, and horn. We not only learned the names, we learned what those things were for: a ball bounced, a dish held food we could eat with a spoon, a rattle made noise, a bell rang, and a horn honked. We might have tried to make the spoon do more than put food in our mouth. For instance, we may have tried to stick it in our ear, hang it on our nose, or send it flying across the room. But when we did, we weren’t rewarded with a smile, hug or kiss from those we loved, but a frown at best. The proper names for things became important to us. And, limiting what we expected those things to do became important, too. We stopped imagining anything more that those things could be for, including the “thing” we called our self.

Author, Henry Carpenter, wrote: “You call a star a star, and say it is just a ball of matter moving on a mathematical course. But that is merely how you see it. By so naming things and describing them, you are only inventing your own terms about them.” Through the invented terms our parents and teachers had for us and the things of the world, we learned about our self and life. We also learned from kids who liked us, and kids who didn’t, even more invented terms for our self. When we were called names that were unloving and unkind, we may have said, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me.” But, often those names did hurt because we believed they were true. We’d accepted the invented views of others as our own identity. Old thoughts we learned about our self and life will continue to limit our view of the more we can be, have, and do. Old thoughts will close us down to new experiences of our self in life unless we invite new thoughts to take their place.

We only have to answer to the God of our creation, and He calls us “Sons and Daughters.” If we’re willing to forget the name the world has been calling us, and answer only to our spiritual name, we are more able to remember we are one with God. We free our self to be, have, and do so much more than we’ve allowed our self to be, have, and do before. We feel free to dance, sing, laugh loudly, smile broadly, and explore the new in all that we do. The beautiful thing is when we forget the name the world has been been calling us, we’re not interested in names we’ve been calling anyone else. To forget the name is to see the face of God in everything and everyone.