Play It Again (and Again), Sam
March’s theme at Life in Pencil is Beginnings
Posted by Elizabeth
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. “ — Ralph Waldo Emerson
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about ruminating. In fact, I guess you could say I’ve been ruminating about ruminating. So what, exactly, is rumination? According to Depression’s Upside, a recent article in The New York Times Magazine by Jonah Lehrer, rumination is derived from the Latin word for “chewed over,” describing the act of digestion and regurgitation that cows go through. While it’s kind of a gross image, it’s really effective in describing the mental process that we go through when we process and then reprocess information over and over (and over) again in our tired brains. In its exaggerated state it’s the thought process that underlies depression, as rumination tends to “lead people to fixate on their flaws and problems, thus extending their negative moods.” Some of us are more prone to rumination than others – I happen to be an ace ruminator – but I think all of us ruminate from time to time. So how does rumination both help us and hurt us in our quest to live our lives in the now and make fresh starts?
Rumination is generally unproductive. I am planning a trip to Italy next month. After spending a number of days researching different lodging options, my heart leapt when I discovered a boutique hotel that looked like something out of Roman Holiday. After happily confirming our reservation, I spent the next two days rehashing the options, even adding new properties into the mix, finally convincing myself that I had made a poor initial choice. After much prodding from Maikael, I eventually accepted the decision I made and moved on with my life. But those intervening days? A complete waste of my time. According to Lehrer’s article, “rumination hijacks the stream of consciousness, and we become fixated on the perceived problem.” Research has continually shown that “rumination is a useless kind of pessimism, a perfect waste of mental energy.” So why do we do it?
Sometimes rumination is a good thing. Lehrer’s article explores the notion that rumination might actually have utility in our lives. While rumination is undeniably unpleasant, it’s often exhibited in response to a real problem, such as the loss of a job or end of a relationship (I admit: my lodging dilemma was not a real problem, even though I perceived it to be at the time). Some prevailing science suggests that rumination might help us to learn from our past or prepare for our future. Before meeting with the perinatologist a few weeks ago, I was in a major ruminative cycle, projecting all sort of worse case scenarios onto my mental screen. Had something been wrong, perhaps I would have been a little better prepared to deal with the fallout. According to Lehrer, rumination underlies the ability to stay intensely focused on a problem for long periods of time and analytically break down those problems into small parts. When I face a complex life problem, turning it over and over again in my head, studying it from every angle possible before deciding on a path forward, rumination can be my friend.
Rumination is the opposite of living in the now. While the scientific jury is still out as to the function of ruminating, when it comes to living life in pencil, rumination seems to do more harm than good. The problem with rumination is that we spend our time replaying the past or projecting our worries into the future, rather than living in the present. When we ruminate, each moment becomes a reenactment of the past or a dress rehearsal for the (unknown) future, robbing us of our opportunity to start anew. So how do we ruminate less and live more? I think there’s a lot of wisdom contained in that Emerson quote.
“Finish each day and be done with it.” I have a tendency to let the problems of the day leak over into the next. Sometimes my dreams are plagued with bits and pieces of my ruminations, spilling forth the vestiges of my unfinished business and loose ends. When I was little, my mom bought me a set of Guatemalan Worry Dolls, tiny woven figurines that nestled snugly in a little oval box. The idea was to “assign” a specific worry to each doll before bedtime, letting them “hold” the worry until the morning. Although I don’t use my worry dolls anymore, I sleep best when I truly get ready for bed (we’re not just talking teeth brushing here, people). Taking my time to review the day on paper – be it through an email to a friend, a note in my journal, or simply scanning my day planner – helps me to put the day to rest and prepare for the next one. (Anne’s gratitude journal could also come in handy here.) I also benefit from make a conscious choice as to what problems are worth picking up tomorrow, and which ones I can let die with the day. What doesn’t help is talking about my worries from the day as I lay in bed readying myself for sleep; for me, it lacks the “containment” of the other methods.
“Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely.” I don’t do a great job of easing myself into the day, and mornings are a hectic time for most of us. Within the first five minutes of rising I turn on my cell phone, dash to my day planner to see what’s on the agenda for the day, and snap on the computer to check my email to see what crises have materialized or interesting news has transpired in the past eight hours. It recently struck me that this is a particularly ugly way to prepare myself for a new day. Those first moments of the day are precious, before the outside world has encroached. Instead of throwing myself into activity, I could have a cup of tea, jot down creative ideas that have emerged overnight, do a few yoga stretches, talk with Maikael, or even make the bed. Choosing just one of these activities that lasted no more than 10 minutes would be better than how I currently start my day, serving to help me ease into things rather than pick up right where I left off. And maybe then I’d worry a little less about the problems of yesterday.
Do you tend to ruminate or not? Do you have particular things that you ruminate about? Do you agree or disagree that rumination has utility? What strategies have you found helpful in allowing you to leave one day behind and start a new one afresh?
March 4th, 2010 at 9:30 am
I love this quote by Emerson.
Morning is my favorite and most productive time of the day. I won’t go online until I’ve read from a book or worked on my own and taken out 15 minutes to do a quick am yoga routine. (A warm breakfast is a must.) Lately I haven’t checked the web or email until the afternoon. Once I start looking at blogs, news, amazon, etc. a couple hours can disappear.
March 4th, 2010 at 9:55 am
I love that quote too, Nikki. I think I need to paste it in every room of my house as a reminder! Today I managed to wait two hours before hopping online, and was pretty proud of myself. I FELT better. I’ve considered disconnecting the wireless card from my computer until I really need it — as you said, it’s easy to get swallowed up by the virtual world before you’ve had a chance to ground yourself in the real one.
March 4th, 2010 at 10:14 am
I ruminate over an in-law, who has serious “issues.” She is very needy and also infuriating. I also ruminate over problems that crop up with clients. Sometimes our kids are posing huge challenges. In all cases, I find it extremely helpful to go to the gym and work out. A cardio class, a machine, even yoga – all occupy the mind and body and help me feel healthier and more focused as I leave the YMCA. In the old days, when I was a runner, I did a lot of good thinking and problem solving while pounding out the miles.
March 4th, 2010 at 4:04 pm
I really resonate with the end of your post today, Elizabeth. I was just talking with a friend yesterday about how to “structure” my day better in order to truly make time to journal and engage in some other activities that I want to do. I think a very large part of my problem is that I plunge into each day through immediate engagement with email, FB, and blogs first thing in the morning. I want commit to starting my day by engaging in the deeper, quieter activities I keep saying I want to do yet don’t make time for. The internet will still be there after some journal writing, coffee, and reflection!
March 4th, 2010 at 5:07 pm
So here’s a question for you! When does rumination become a Obsessive Compulsive Disorder? I wonder about this as my mind spins out of control at 4AM. Am ruminating or just giving in to my OCD compulsion?
March 4th, 2010 at 9:07 pm
Great question, Terry. I think the answer lies in the how greatly it impacts your life. For someone with an obsessive compulsive disorder, their compulsions disrupt the otherwise ordinary flow of their life. But even those of us without an obsessive compulsive disorder can sometimes exhibit compulsive behaviors. I think of OCD as being more behavior/action based, where as ruminations are more cognitive/thinking based. I am going to open the floor to my counseling psychologist readers here — I know you’re out there — thoughts?
March 5th, 2010 at 5:37 am
I try not to ruminate. I did, over my step-mother shortly after my father’s death. I finally realized it didn’t matter if I ruminated over her situation, what she was doing. I was “not her child” so she wasn’t listening to my input anyway.
I ruminated over a past relationship until someone gave me a verbal slap up side the head. I didn’t even realize I was doing it but that awakening really made me do a self-check. The re-thinking, re-hashing what went right and what went wrong was stupid. It wasn’t getting the relationship back. That wasn’t going to happen. Think of all the moments I lost instead of just celebrating the happy times I had had and moving on.
Thanks for the morning thoughts, Elizabeth! Love the quote.
March 5th, 2010 at 12:06 pm
Do I ruminate? Hell yes, I ruminate. Always. On many unimportant things. As my husband says, my mind is always working.
I was very interested to read Lehrer’s article – and view it from my lens of depression. It has taken me all week to fully process the article, going back and reading segments of it, reading many blogs with follow-up comments and interpretations.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this, Elizabeth – very helpful.
March 5th, 2010 at 1:31 pm
Eva, given the scope of your blog, I appreciate your thoughts on this. In fact, as I read the article and wrote the post, I thought about you. I, too, found it to be a really fascinating article — especially the part about rumination.
March 5th, 2010 at 6:33 pm
Like you and several of the previous commenters, I am a big-time ruminator (ruminant? like a cow?) and a serious dweller.
One tactic that helps me – when I remember to deploy it – is to ask myself: “Will this matter tomorrow? Will this matter next month? Will this matter next year?” Asking these questions helps me decide how much rumination to allow myself.
Bruce at http://privilegeofparenting.com also wrote a very interesting reflection on the Lehrer piece in the Times. I think you would enjoy reading it.
March 5th, 2010 at 10:28 pm
Kristen, I love that blog post. Especially what he says about “farming out” the unpleasant parts of life, and how we’re negating the soul-ful work that comes about from doing such work. Your technique reminds me of a version of one I use with myself when I’m ruminating. “Will this kill me? Will my life come crashing down around me?” Usually, the answer is, obviously, “no.”