One of the first things you figure out when you learn to read minds is just how boring people are. So completely, unbelievably dull.
Sure, being a mind reader sounds like fun until you think about how awful your Facebook feed is, and that’s the stuff your friends thought was worth sharing. Now imagine what they think isn’t worth sharing.
That’s what it’s like to be a mind reader.
Let me tell you why it’s comforting in a way (and completely freeing).
Once you see just how often other people are thinking about you (never), your fear of looking silly evaporates. You’re free to learn how to dance. You’re free to learn Mandarin.
Learning means being uncomfortable. Being uncomfortable means looking stupid.
But nobody cares.
Not even your Mom; she’s too busy wondering if she’s an awful parent & worrying just how badly she screwed you up.
Don’t worry, you’re fine. You’re free. Nobody cares, and that’s wonderful. You can stop trying to measuring up to what you think other people want you to be.
You’re a mind reader. You know better.
That they’re going to flub the big presentation. Of losing the client. Of being a bad uncle. Of being a bad lover. Of being broke.
Of dying alone.
Maybe that’s just me.
The good news is everyone dies, & you’re going to die alone.
Nobody can do it for you, but you can die surrounded by the people you love & the people who love you (sometimes those are the same people!).
We’re all scared (mostly) hairless apes running around trying to shout loud enough into the universe in the hopes that, just maybe, our echo lasts a while after we’re done screaming.
When you realize everyone is one missed green light from a total meltdown, you feel pretty good about where you are in life. You’re not perfect, but you sure as hell have it together better than that monkey in a suit bashing his briefcase against a rock.
Your problems? Those special circumstances that make you a snowflake unlike any other in the history of ever? Yeah, that’s not real.
I don’t care what your problem is; someone’s been there before. You’ve been out-hipstered. Take a breath. Put down the double caramel macchiato, and repeat after me:
“I’m not the first. I won’t be the last. If they made it through, I can too. If they didn’t, I will.”
Everyone’s problems can be whittled down to, what? 5 things? Health, wealth, relationships, and I’d have to invent the other two.
So, 3 things.
It kept the Oracles of Delphi busy. It kept the gypsies busy. It keeps palm readers busy.
They don’t have to come up with anything new, because you don’t have any new problems.
Lost all your money? Wife left you for your brother? Your girlfriend’s roommate killed her baby by rolling over on it in her sleep, so she switched your live baby out for her dead one?
Been there, done that. It’s in the Bible.
Get over yourself, you’re not special.
(and that’s awesome)
Because that means you’ll like them.
We’re social animals. We want to belong. Even if it’s with a group that doesn’t fit us; we’ll go where we’re wanted.
Once you start poking around in people’s minds and see they’re desperate for the approval of people who don’t even like them (like you) you’ll realize that’s how you are.
Then you’ll stop wasting your time trying to impress people you hate just so they’ll like you.
You’ll have so much more time for
You don’t have to talk to ghosts to read the minds of the smartest people through history.
Nor, the stupid people, for that matter. (Even idiots write books.)
Read a book! Reading is about as close to real mind reading as you’re going to get, unless you’re me.
The author becomes some kind of wizard who traps an idea with words, condemns the words to some kind of prison (clay, stone, paper, or digital), where you come along after who knows how long, and unwittingly release dangerous ideas back into the world.
Look what you’ve done.
It’s all terribly exciting, isn’t it?