Bones A Rattlin' for a Fight

I wonder, have I lived a skeleton's life,
As a disbeliever in reality,
A countryman made of all the bones in the world?--Wallace Stevens

I was told by a close friend that I think too much. That I look too deep into things trying to find meaning. He told me that it is OK to not think so much.

I know this to be true. I wish my mind would allow me to listen to him.

I seem to only work at two levels in my life, one that is totally engulfed in whatever the body is doing or it is dashing off somewhere in contemplation of where the universe came from. Hard as that is to explain, it is a black and white reality to my thought process. It's an on/off switch.

The main trouble is I am finding it harder and harder to satisfy the thirst that continues driving me to understand and to seek substance about things. And the more I seek them out the more new things pop up that need to be understood. My list of books keep growing, poets need to be explored, classics read, old books reread, music listened too and collected. And the half-finished projects surrounding me that I work on regularly sporadically (Try to make sense of that sentence).

Yet at the very same time my soul screams that "You are not going to live forever for cryin' out loud and try to relax and enjoy and live without trying to figure out every gosh darn thing around you." Stopping the effort of putting all the flesh on the skeleton of my life and wonderings at the same time as it is parting from my bones is a losing battle.

I am going down with a fight.