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01/03/2021


2021/03/01#p1

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Hello Monday.

Ah, there's nothing quite like wrestling with existential questions to start the week. Still, it feels a little surreal when you quote Heraclitus of Ephesus and Dr Gil Grissom of CSI in consecutive paragraphs.

We've been reorganising things here to give our daughter the top floor of the house, like an apartment. Gives her a bit of space. So there's been a lot of shifting and putting together of shelves and furniture.

My wife has been having a bad reaction to the Covid vaccine. Friday wasn't too bad – the expected "heavy arm" and a bit of tiredness – but she was quite bad over the weekend. Everything ached and she slept a lot. Looks like things are starting to settle down now.

Based on current estimates I won't be offered my first jab until at least the middle of April.

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philbowell says: Reply to philbowell

@colinwalker some places are giving vaccines that are left at the end of the day to whoever happens to be around. Might be worth calling your local centre and saying your wife I vulnerable and it would help if you got it sooner. Worth a try at least.

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colinwalker says: Reply to colinwalker

@philbowell Thanks. Will bear that in mind.

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2021/03/01#p3

1 comment: click to read or leave your own

I've been meaning to write something about this from Michael Wade but wasn't sure what:

Looking back, there was one chore that I should have put on every list and saved time for every day.

That missing item was "Thinking."

I mean serious, not off-the-cuff, thinking where time is dedicated, assumptions are examined, unknown subjects are identified, plans are challenged, and conclusions are at least tentatively reached.

Writing every morning I like to imagine that I'm thinking but the real thought happened over 6 years ago – the ideas that shaped everything I'm currently doing are old and I'm just rehashing them, working out which dots connect and what order they should be in.

That's not thinking, not really. Yes, a degree of thought goes into it but not that really deep contemplation that gets under the surface of things.

I have been putting something on the blog every day but that is generally something quite shallow, more to keep the habit going than anything – little "hello world" posts, meta observations and notes to self. Nothing of any great depth or breadth.

It's interesting that Wade refers to it as a chore, something that has to be done like the dishes or the laundry. Thinking, proper thinking, is hard work which is probably why most of us avoid it. Likening it to other jobs we may not want to do is, therefore, an astute observation.

Still, we may not want to do them but they have to be done.

I can't remember what or where but I was reading something else recently about the act of thinking being much maligned – it doesn't look like the thinker is doing anything so they are accused of daydreaming, wasting time, when they are actually undertaking one of the hardest tasks there is.

Thinking is not thought and thoughts are not thinking. Thought is largely passive, happening all the time, a result of conditioning – it is primarily superficial and connected to our more base needs. Thinking, however, is dialogic – it is like an internal conversation or discussion, the active assimilation and contemplation of information. A thought is a reaction, almost a reflex, while thinking is a process.

There always seems to be something else to do, something to get wrapped up in rather than getting lost in thought. But that's not really what it is, despite what it looks like from the outside. We don't get lost thinking, we are exploring, making choices based on what is before us – or in our minds – unsure of where it may lead but hoping it results in some kind of conclusion, "at least tentatively reached."

I am reminded of the poem The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Following our mental paths is like finding "two roads diverged" and, despite our best efforts to examine both sides, we know we are going to make a decision which will lead us one way or the other.

The most famous part of the poem may be "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by" but the most powerful is "Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back."

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