It is not easy to have an unbiased opinion in our hypocritical society of strong influence and strange happenings. Our thoughts are rarely original, our beliefs a reflection of someone else’s perceptions, our minds fogged, translucent mirrors.
We are a vague, distracted lot.
It is recycled ideas and clichéd wonder that overcomes the average mind in moments of supposed epiphany. (“Oh, now I understand! life is a journey!”) We come back where we begin and then begin again. It is a vicious circle.
But I realized something recently.
I used to force myself to think about “significant matters” and “deep concerns” when I felt like my pursuit of intellectual uniqueness and creativity was not amounting to anything more than the contents of a moth eaten, lost wallet. Churning out ideas that were never entirely my own, I slumped with exhaustion every time I contemplated my inability to be truly original. After a point, novelty became the aim of free thought and any sort of wonder I previously employed was replaced by a resilient search for the New Idea.
Strangely enough, I set standards in my head for my own thoughts, inadvertently seeking validation from myself (as if the world wasn’t enough) and forgot to be fascinated by things.
This deal annoyed me.
I feared that I subconsciously conformed and this subsequently hampered my powers of amusement.
I lived in this personal hell. Burned.
Until, one day, I woke up and absolutely refused to have this weird, twisted, pointless complex.
And so I shrugged. (Now the power of this slight movement of shoulders should never be underestimated. The art of shrugging is intricate. It is the sudden forgoing of all your worries stemming around you in one simple gesture of resignation and aloofness. It is drastic de-stressing. It is a severe form of not caring.)
Once The Shrug was executed, I stopped trying to be deep and interesting and focused on wonder and amusement.
And thats when I developed my own set of Eurekas.
After suffering through my desperate attempts at philosophical depth, I know now that New Ideas strike you like lightning when you least expect them to, setting your brain whirring in odd, unexpected directions, spinning towards a plethora of very peculiar subjects.
It was like a metaphorical apple fell on my head and the world suddenly made a lot more sense.
I began thinking
Shampoo is the Apocalypse for lice civilizations.
My dog talks to me and I will never know what it says.
Life is a box of chocola…wait, that’s not mine.
Suddenly it dawned on me that all I had to do was take a shower with an idle mind to come up with my own stuff. All of those thorough introspections seemed utterly superficial and stupid.
Turns out I was only myself when I was not trying to be.
And this is when I sighed. (The Sigh is a quite expression of flooding relief and momentary, blissful satisfaction. It is accompanied with the slight relaxing of shoulders and the occasional fluttery eyelids, all expressing a peculiar sort of contentment.)
I continue to think this way. Sure, one can argue none of my Eurekas are a matter of consequence, but if that’s your argument, then you need to go read “The Little Prince” and learn to bask in the glory of the weird.
Because strange is good and everything deserves to be thought of, whether it’s goats, lampposts or life.
Who are we to decide what matters and what doesn’t? New is new, interest is subjective and open-mindedness is convenient. Think like you do. Don’t try so hard to be someone you are not.
I am not asking you to stop philosophizing; it is fun to rationalize and ponder.
But splash on the shallow end sometimes. Build sandcastles. Feel the wind.
Its better than plunging into the ocean unprepared.
Think about it.
I conclude here and urge you to come up with your own metaphors for life that don’t correspond to themes of travel. Actually, I dare you.