Category: Writing

When I first was introduced to the concept of monkey brain thoughts, I was fascinated. We have these instinctive sorts of mental processes for keeping us alive and functioning, but they don’t always work properly, and they aren’t what separates us from other animals. Higher thought moves us forward.

But then, a lot of what we “think” ends up being regurgitations of things we’ve been taught, or facts memorized through rote. So beyond the basic monkey brain, and this quasi-memorization, you can finally get to original thought. If such a thing is actually possible.

This is a three-level structure, but by Googling “levels of thought” you quickly find varying degrees of systems, from two levels all the way up to seven (that I saw in a cursory search). So, much like Descartes, who postulated “I think, therefore I am,” it seems not just me, but many of us are fascinated by the various aspects and nuances of thought.

I’m always, always, struggling with a list of needs, wants, to-dos, etc. It’s ever-growing, never-ending, and occupies more time on my mind than anything should. But it’s not a problem that’s unique to me. Many people I know share similar busy schedules. The tips I read on productivity often include the author decrying their inability to manage an increasing workload.

Going back to David Allen’s book Getting Things Done, it seems the trick is to manage where you keep things that need doing. And the more places you have, the more spread out your to-do list, and the more likely you are to get overwhelmed. Fewer places mean fewer stacks, and that means more focus.

The first step of invention can come from anywhere. Inspiration pops up in the quiet moments, when you’re checking in on the everyday, or working diligently on other projects.

The best thing about inspiration is that it never dries up.

Most of what we need now is thought capital. The world is an economy running on the products of creative thought – only the products are mostly incorporeal. And this capital is fueled by information technology.

In watching the implosion of various cryptocurrencies this past year, it may be difficult to believe just how much buzz there was surrounding the financial instrument just last year. Now, it’s looking questionable as to whether we’ll ever get to widespread acceptance of the crypto market.

That isn’t to say it’s inherently bad. Decentralizing currency has many benefits, and it does offer an immediacy that other currencies lack, at least in transferring an amount when not in person.

What is a problem, and what has always been a problem, is when the market deems something too valuable. It creates that bubble, and as we see time and again – bubbles pop.

I think that we’re explorers by nature. We see something, anything, and we can’t help but be curious about it. One final holdover from the age when we were babies and every single thing was something miraculous to us.

As we get older, the unknown world (as we perceive it) gets smaller and smaller. And then, when it happens, it’s easy to lose a sense of wonder altogether.

It’s important to venture into the unknown from time to time. Let the miraculous open your mind to possibility. It seems that all of life’s wonders exist just beyond that which we know and are comfortable with.

AMC’s recent rollout of tiered pricing was, to put it mildly, flawed. Arguments in favor of it claimed similarity to concerts or sporting events. But concerts or sporting events are one-time things.

Live productions, or any ticketed activity that is limited to a once-only experience, are much different than seeing films. Because while the film stays the same, the experience of attending a live event can never be duplicated.

The risk, of course, is that cinema attendance, while somewhat on the rise following the pandemic, could suffer from such pricing initiatives.

I used this term recently to describe the evaporation of time – or, more literally, the passing of time. The fact that it’s already the end of February when it felt like last week it was still 2022, is just mind-boggling to me.

When we look at ourselves in the mirror, we see exactly what we look like at that moment. But in our minds, it feels like we’re much younger. What we see is the remains of what we think we are – that’s what I meant by the remains of the mist.

There are roughly eight billion people on this planet. Today, then, is experienced in eight billion ways. And those are the ways that we could possibly understand – not the trillions of ways various animals, insects, etc. may see today.

For some. today is their first day. Others, their last. For most of us, it’s just another day in a line of days.

But each day is different. Each day can be special. And when we think of the number of ways that today could be perceived, the fact that today is seen through our eyes makes it something that we should cherish.

A lot of my preliminary thoughts for blog posts go into a “scratchpad”. Currently, it’s pretty much a Google Doc that just has page after page of scribblings. One line here, two lines there.

When I do finish something and post it, I highlight the entire thing, leaving a “PUBLISHED on …” note so that I don’t accidentally repost scrolling through them later.

I used to write quite frequently in notebooks – I enjoy the act of writing, using pen on paper – but it’s not something that I was doing with any consistency for a while. At least until last year’s trip to Hawaii.

So I’ve been thinking of the history of the word scratchpad. Looking it up, it’s just the combination of scratch + pad, meaning a pad of scratch paper. A place for preliminary notes.

The thing is, I don’t recall where I first heard it. I’ve been using the term for a while now, at least a couple of years. Perhaps it was referenced in something I read, or heard on the radio. But, the specific escapes me.

The nice thing about a scratchpad is that it just collects and collects and collects. The longer you scratch, the more you build up, and the more fuel you have to throw onto your intellectual fire.