Thoughts, ideas, so fleeting they are, I wish they’d more often put roots into the soil from which they sprout, be visible and anchored ready for harvest in either their nascent state or left a while to mature before being baled up into wisdom. But no, most thoughts are not so, they emerge instead from some murky pond of the possibly ponderable into the light of consciousness. Hatched freshly from their pupa they set themselves out on some stalk to dry their wings in readiness for their own mission. So, so fleeting indeed; they fly off as soon as they’re able. I do my best to net them for the sake of musing, admiration or consideration, but most escape to be one with another of their evanescent selves, I guess, in some happy dalliance in the ether of the definitely imponderable. Unwitnessed by all.
To capture and study every notion one has is a sure impossibility I know, but I see a sadness in what is wasted. In this universe of inordinate emptiness and magnitude–ought all thoughts to be super precious? There’s surely room for them. Only the Eureka moments seem to stick around to make it to a notepad or be shored in the mind by their own strength. Out of my window at work today I contemplated something nigh on profound. ‘Nigh on’ being the key word pair; I can’t for the middle-aged life of me now remember what it was. Had it been truly profound, it’d still be with me making a feature of itself on my mental landscape. Only that it had me smile inwardly and make a soon to be broken promise to ponder it later is what I recall. ‘Work’ you see is the other key word; it got in the way, my obligation to my occupation overruled my desire to delve at that juncture and do that musing I mention. Outstretched went the idea’s wings and out of contemplation (and that very window I stared) it flew. And in my pocket stayed my notepad.
Those with a greater stature than mine whose shoulders I like to stand on and look inside their brains (figuratively of course); the Great Thinkers. I posit they should have listeners and documenters on hand to record their thoughts for each of their waking moments, for even their small ideas are immense. Were Eureka alive today, we might just have discovered the theory of displacement was actually gotten years earlier when he was picking his nose.