In Search of A Disciplined Mind

In years past, even on these pages, I have often foolishly proclaimed myself a thinker. Or, if not a thinker, one who tends to think he thinks. Lately, I have come to realize that such a boast was and is likely without merit. I marvel at those who can create deep and authoritative works, essays that while academic, reach beyond logic and philosophy to touch (or if not touch, reach toward) the truth of a thing.

In reality, I am having to come to terms with the undisciplined nature of my mind. Sure, as an engineer, I can focus on the task at hand and work to define, describe and implement a solution. But what joy may have been present in such has since become muted. I have long struggled with the dichotomy of my engineer's training and my need for creative expression through the written word. Others might not see the dichotomy, but as they represent two very different parts of me, I experience the tension nonetheless. Like the pursuit of a gift that can never be truly yours, I long for an excellence that cannot be achieved with second-rate skills. Once, it seems, I was able to compose my thoughts, make an argument, express a revelation in a manner that was fresh and relevant. These days, I can't seem to find that handle.

In part, it may be due to overindulgence in two-dimensional stimuli. By this, I mean the virtual world, rather than the three-dimensional interaction and engagement with real people in real deliberation and discussion. The internet is a bountiful resource of information, and I'm always reading, jumping from site to site, page to page, taking in much but pondering very little. I thirst for knowledge and comprehension, but seeking such sustenance only from what comes through this electronic wonder is a little like taking in salt water.

When I detach from such stimuli, I often find my mind to be a disordered mess. It takes discipline to sit and think, requiring more mental energy than I'm often willing to commit. Sometimes, I just sit without thinking. Only when I've been detached for a while does the equilibrium reset itself, setting the conditions for a more productive reflection. Yet even then, my hand might reach for the TV remote of its own volition.

Is it a thirst for knowledge and comprehension, or a thirst for stimulation? A universe of information may be at our fingertips, but knowing that a possible by-product is the erosion of mental discipline, maybe we would do well to view with caution the method of transference.

Or perhaps, I'm simply making excuses for my own mental laziness. In fact, that is my fear. Because in re-reading the paragraphs above, I have given witness to the undisciplined nature of my thoughts, which bear the fruit of an unproductive reflection.

In the end, I know little, and comprehend even less. That is no fault but my own, a failure to more often exercise the discipline required to sit and create the conditions for productive, reflective and creative thought.

What a mess, eh?