Where Thoughts go to Die
The Graveyard of ideas
If you don’t keep your mind extremely pugnacious, your thoughts will die. You will never see them again. Then they will be buried in the mud, in the graveyard of ideas. And they ain’t comin back.
Original ideas are quite rare. When you have one then you are one of the pioneers. The few of us who get these kinds of ideas are pioneers. We need new ideas because new ideas bring life and our society is in danger of death. We need life, not death. Life carries along ideas, too along with our bodies. But ideas can also die very easily. They can die like a stone thrown into water. Life is the water. It rushes past ideas.
You don’t challenge the waves. Rather, you let the waves carry you. Your job is not anything to do with challenging waves. You have to stay present, or mentally there.
You need to keep you mind alive so it as well as its ideas can be carried by the wave. The ideas are part of the mind. Failing, that you don’t die. Your body is alive but your mind not so much. You keep going as a corpse. This is a difficult thing to understand, this notion that one needs to ride the wave not fight against it.
please note, this is not the matter of what they call science. It is not within the thought area they think they are carving out with their technocratic “science.”
No, it is more about the union of praxis and awareness. The praxis is usually other people’s. Let their wave carry you, like the wind carries pollen from a flower.
Summer breeze:
Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Not really difficult to understand. In my case I’ve sometimes been stymied in writing via my Substack account because it’s difficult to find the subject matter and the time to devote to writing for it.
As it is I actively write poetry, am a moderator or administrator in four FB literary groups and contribute regularly to allpoetry.com. Then there are the many requests I get to critique the poetry (and, in a few cases, short stories) of other writers.
It feels like I’m busier now than when I worked as an accountant. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do more than the detective projects of locating a mistaken debit or credit entry. But every once in a while my brain just calls for time out.