Here we are at the close of a week, which means only one thing: it's the beginning of another.
And unlike many other blogs in which I cleverly wander about the happenings of my life, alluding to romantic excitements and sharing the wisdom I've gained from professors, friends and family, in this blog I just want to share a few thoughts about what's been on my mind all weekend: the process of thinking.
Why only a few thoughts?
Well, that would be because I only have a few coherent thoughts left.
I feel entirely unsettled.
And what is most upsetting is that I've always taken myself for a pretty well-sorted individual. I don't just coast through life; I explore my thoughts and have worked hard to have a genuine sense of who I am.
But I am broken-hearted to know that I am truly not much of a deep thinker. I want to be one. I want to be able to know that a certain situation needs to be explored further and then chew at it until something pops out of my brain's central processing unit that I can hang my hat on.
Instead, I just feel lost- lost in a world that doesn't encourage deep thought.
We're programmed to go about our business without making any ripples- not even to mention a tidal wave- and to find people who share our half-explored thoughts who also make good euchre partners or laugh at all our jokes.
What's really rare and beautiful is to find someone who in the very way they go about their daily life makes you pause for a moment and get the itch to start rooting through every single life lesson that you have stored away in your mind's filing cabinets until you know with absolute certainty that those mantras are what you want defining you.
The problem is that conducting an Autumn cleaning of my brain has been rough...and it's only been a few days. I feel like someone has splashed cold water on my face and awakened me to the rut I've let my thoughts fall into.
And I'm trying to do something about it.
And so far all I've gained is a certain sense of melancholy.
But somehow I know it's going to be worth it. Because when I get my sunshine back I want it to be the real kind, the kind that comes in the first few days of spring, when you can finally feel the sun's warmth again kissing your skin as you shed your jacket- the kind of sunshine that comes when you know that you're meant to be thinking what you're thinking and you haven't just become a vessel for everyone's opinion but your own.
Today's thought of the day is a sonnet I wrote for poetry class that is an integral part of what launched me into this round of the thinking game:
He walks before the town has thought to rise;
the streets still unmolested by the sun,
their pavement telling tales of last night's lies.
A new day must begin as one is done.
He walks weighed down by thoughts of long-gone days,
of paths untouched by wand'rings of his sole.
This solemn peace of morning cannot stay,
though with his thoughts it has grown rich and full.
He walks alone without a need to go
on daytime pathways marked by stops and signs.
His mind will guide his footsteps' ebb and flow,
and run for miles before the sun can shine.
He walks at dawn to have a chance to be
a man from worldly fear and pain set free.
Peace, love and fuzzy peaches,