I think a lot.
Which is an understatement.
I think a lot.
Here you will find quite a few of my unproven theories, rough drafts, vaguely connected ideas and various bits of contemplation. These are all unfinished thoughts of mine that will, one day, be connected to one another in coherent ways. I can’t prove much of anything you will read here and odds are that I can’t even argue any of it intelligently.
This isn’t because I don’t understand what I’m saying, mind you. It’s because the more complex an idea, the longer it takes to master ones understanding of it enough that it can be articulated simply and coherently, which is unfortunately a prerequisite for intelligent conversation.
Despite what a surprisingly large amount of people seem to think, ideas have a VERY long incubation period. Brooding an idea can take years, decades, centuries. Yes, once an idea has hatched, it quickly spreads its wings and flies away to be used by all and sundry but making a brand-new idea? That takes time.
“I maintain that I’m not wrong. I’m just not right yet.”
It took me many many years to realize that I needn’t punish myself for not being done thinking yet. It took me a very long time to realize that the people who were criticizing me for too much thinking and not enough doing had never come up with an original idea in their entire lives. Not a poem, not a story, not a song. Not a new branch of mathematics or physics or social science. Definitely not a new language, an new philosophy or the basis of a new culture. Who were they to call me a “too-much” thinker and a time-waster when they had no clue how much labour, effort, toil or trouble went into the creation of anything, expect perhaps a child.
“Most people never create anything other than more people who
will never create anything.” – Shaman-in-Training
Yet, I was told that I was stupid, and lazy and wrong because I was thinking more than I was doing, creating more than I was consuming, growing more than I was selling… How dare I do something rare: making ideas rather than just citing, quoting, repeating those of others unthinkingly.
For a long time, I was ashamed because I felt as if I was worthless. What is the value of an idea anyways? What is the worth of thinking. God knows it doesn’t pay the bills. Then, I became homeless and had (almost) no bills to pay and the question came again…
What is the value of thinking?
I am homeless still and I realize, with every day that passes, that I have nothing but time as my wealth to invest in whichever activity I see fit.
I have no guarantee that I’ll be able to feed myself past a couple of days. I have no guarantee I’ll have housing when the temperature drops. Just like everyone else, I have no guarantee that I will stay safe or live long but, unlike the masses, I have no illusion of having a guarantee either.
I do, however, have a guarantee that right now, today, in this present moment, I am still alive, and that means that I still have time. I still have MY time and there is no one making any demands of it, no one trying to steal it, no one to whom I owe any of it.
This blog is my greatest luxury.
It is, after a lifetime of being servile, obedient and afraid, my agency, my freedom, my unlimited space, my life. It is my choice of what to do with my time, however much or little of it I may have left. It is possibly the only legacy that I will have time to build and so I want it to be beautiful. That is why I place here as much thinking as I dare (and I dare quite a lot ever since I’ve noting to lose) so that there will be something of me in the world because I have no illusions: there is no guarantee.
What is the value of thinking? What is the worth of an idea?
It is something about which I think a lot. Time is a dimension I don’t understand yet, which is why it is the puzzle I am every day trying to solve. What is the value of time? Of life? How much is a lifetime worth? I am not sure yet, which means that I am not wrong to think about it. I am not right either. All I am is indefinite, incomplete, uncertain, ambiguous, in motion, in progress, growing, in training.
Many people have trouble understanding objects in motion, which is why I don’t expect many people to read or understand this particular section of my blog. I write it anyways because it pleases me to do so. It is like a song I sing to myself on a midnight street I nonetheless hope isn’t empty. I have no illusions of guarantees and so, instead, I am living with the pleasure of knowing that, for all my misery and poverty, I am not delaying my gratification even for an instant.
I am also living with the burden of knowing that I am delaying results because I won’t be rushed and that my lack of results means that, to the eyes of many, I will be invisible or worthless. I still do not know which is worst.
I offer this section of my blog as a gift of time to myself in the present and of memory to myself in the future. I also offer it as a treat to the impatient or curious who will not wait for the complete, simple answers I won’t be able to offer for many more years or even decades.
I present to the world my incomplete ideas, the unfinished results of the many many times that I ramble a ponder through my thoughts. To rambleaponder is what I call the mental version of a coddiwomple: to purposefully contemplate the vagueness of an idea.
I welcome you to join me through my winding streams of musing by clicking on any of the links below or, if you prefer, to follow me on my much less confusing but no less enlightening winding roads of life.
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