over-feeling & never leaving well enough alone

"You're overthinking it." I've been told this, and have told this, countless times over. 

You have too. 

But you know what I've never, ever heard said to me? "You're over-feeling it." 

And why not?

If we can overthink, we can over-feel. Seems to make sense.

What's overthinking? 

My take: it's when we analyze a thought, relentlessly. We do this a point where it disrupts much of our day, and a disproportionate amount of life. It derails other thoughts. It overrides other stuff we want to also ponder. It stays excessively heightened in our mind's eye.

BUT here's the thing: our thoughts aren't always right. Actually, we're wrong about as often as we're right. So therefore, not every thought we have is well-thought-out.

So what's over-feeling? 

My take: It's when we analyze our feeling(s), relentlessly. We do this to a point where it disrupts much of our day, and a disproportionate amount of life. It derails other feelings. We're somehow unable, in the moment, to discern if the feeling's valid. It overrides other feelings we want to properly feel. It stays excessively heightened in our heart and mind.

BUT here's the thing: our feelings are sometimes mistaken. Actually, our feelings can be off-base as much as true. So not every feeling we have is sensibly felt.

"In my defense I have none, for never leaving well enough alone..." -T.S. (The 1)

How do we stop over-feeling?

Whoa, whoa whoa.

First, let's check expectations. 

Trying to abruptly *stop* over-feeling will likely end in failure. Might as well try to stop feeling a breeze when you're outside and it's windy. Nor can we expect to always *control* our over-feeling tendencies.

I picture it like this: I have this plate of food sitting in front of me. The only item on the plate is a food called 'over-feeling.' It tastes like plain oatmeal, which is not everyone's favorite. And somehow, I can't take it off the plate (so that option is out), nor can I push the plate off the table (that option's also out). One way or another, I've gotta eat this mush. 

So what to do?

What I can do is I can try to interrupt, to interfere with that over-feeling taste, so that it's not the only taste on the plate. I put something else on the plate with it. I can add salt. Or ketchup, or brown sugar, or butter, or popcorn, or ranch dressing, or milk, or anything. 

The point is not that it tastes great. The point is that the taste of over-feeling gets disrupted. There's no law that says 'over-feeling' gets to overwhelm us all by itself. Adding ketchup radically disrupts the taste. My goal is to add to and crowd my over-feeling, to disrupt the taste. 

This concept takes center stage in the book The Giver.

Jonas finds living with memories amidst the Sameness landscape undesirable. But he can't rid himself of the burden. So what does he do? Jonas flees to some Elsewhere so that the burden of memory isn't all he has with him.*

Make the over-feeling work for it.

Also: it's reasonable to need help when we face our over-feeling tendencies. It takes time to learn new ways. Praying to God helps. The counsel and/or silent presence of wise, loving friends can also do much good. These are some options to add to the plate, to crowd the over-feeling.

The presence of feelings is not the problem. It's the over- part of feeling (and thinking) that we can learn to spar with, to check, to push back against, and to test. Over-feeling won't go away, and won't always be controlled. But that doesn't mean there's nothing we can do.

(*If you're a reader of the Narnia book series, Puddleglum the Marsh-wiggle does this in The Silver Chair. 

He can't put the enchanted-smelly fire out, so he grinds his bare foot into flames. The smell of Puddleglum's burnt foot irrevocably disrupts the enchantment.)