I’ve been trying to relate everything to the Animal Time theory, just because it’s the hook I want to explore, and I wanted something of a writing prompt to goad me into a daily routine. For most of the time that I’ve had this theory, my notion was that it was a communication theory. No animal is inherently superior to any other, and the point was to simply learn to recognize when your context was different than your conversational partner’s. If you’re in Dog Time but talking to someone in Cat Time, the difference in that context may become a communicational frustration.
The idea was simply about acknowledging those contexually different starting points so that you can empathize and understand others better.
Now that I’ve been writing solely about myself and my experiences, mixing the Animal Time in as a through-line, I realize there’s a strong element of learning to balance the three contexts internally. Plenty of folks preach living in the now, embracing the moment while honoring the past and planning for the future. However, I think I’m also realizing that can mean demonizing those times when standing squarely in the embrace of Cat or Squirrel Brain is, in fact, a mental or emotional advantage.
I spend a lot of time noticing (and, therefore, writing about) times when the various Animal Brains are causing me trouble, but the point of that is usually to help pump up the ones being diminished when I get stuck. If I’m hung up on fretting over a deadline, that’s Squirrel Brain squeezing out Cat and Dog. I think the “live in the now” principle is a good one, when balanced with the respect for and honoring of the past and future pieces. Which probably means that the goal is really to aim for a Brain that’s, say, 60% Dog, 20% Cat, and 20% Squirrel, in the absence of any specific event or moment best met with a temporary increase in focus on Cat or Squirrel.
Or I’m overthinking it. Entirely possible. But that’s sort of the point of all this.
Featured image: Lyra, in perfect balance.