You know how it feels when you’ve eaten too much; “I’m stuffed,” we say. In movies I’ve heard Brits or Aussies say, “get stuffed” and it doesn’t mean to eat to overflowing.
Then there’s the stuffed animal or the stuffed-up nose. A pillow is said to be stuffed. There’s the overstuffed chair, sofa, or ottoman. These stuffed things are luxury items, welcoming and comfortable.
We stuff turkeys and chickens with bread that is flavored with their juices and which in turn keeps the bird moist; a give and take of thanksgiving. Some of us eat stuffed peppers and I am at this writing about to stuff some yellow squash with a cheesy goodness in gratitude for their bounty.
Blankets are stuffed with batting or downy feathers, and high-end pillows are stuffed with a mystery material that can be washed again and again and bounces back to its original plumpness. My mom used to stuff pillows with nylon stockings that had seen better days; the last of those I inherited, having been discarded in the not-so-distant past.
These are just a few of the things we live with that are stuffed. However, when I thought of stuffed in the context of this column, it was in the overly-full sense of the word.
These musings are mostly concerning too much stuff, clogging or cluttering my senses. I’ve already been-there-done-that with you about stuff in various hide y-holes in my house; so, I will try to keep my aging brain on track and not repeat myself.
As to the overstuffed brain, it can manifest as a boiling cauldron, threatening to scald anyone who comes too close. Or, our cluttered senses can resemble an off-kilter pinball machine with metal balls bouncing off the edges of their confinement in an unrivaled clatter. Some of us unplug that dastardly machine when the clutter begins to clatter. We shut down.
Can you imagine the overwhelming work of Santa Claus? All those deliveries, and with an important deadline looming. No wonder the poem says that Mom and Dad, a rather busy couple in their own right, had just settled down for a long winter’s nap, when out on the lawn there “arose such a clatter.” Of course, this guy would arrive with some noise, probably emanating from his overstuffed brain.
Have you ever had too much to do; too much going on, not to mention overthinking? There’s even initials these days for too much information: TMI.
TMI usually refers to when someone over-shares what one normally or customarily would consider private information. We say that this person has no filter; a subjective assessment.
But in this context, I’m thinking of TMI as literally so much information rattling around in that cartoon bubble over our heads, that we begin to be befuddled.
When your mind is stuffed, the whole atmosphere surrounding you feels full; like helium in a balloon. Should the balloon be pricked, you might bang from one surface to another untethered to solid ground.
We say that someone with an overly-full mind is, spacey; unable to concentrate, focus, or settle down to earth. Some things just have to be “left up in the air.”
I think perhaps I unclutter my brain onto you all. Each week I share some of the stuff that would otherwise have contributed to a serious clog in my brain. So, thanks for listening and being my plumbers.