I’ve always been curious to know how your brain worked. I know you were a renaissance man, yet a humble man.
Sometimes I dip into multiple subjects and create a complex web, just barely connecting one nugget of knowledge to another. Brainstorming helps, but sometimes it really feels like a storm in my brain, thoughts murky and violently tossing around. Sometimes my pen doesn’t write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. Other times my pen sits in my hand, waiting to write, but lacking inspiration.
How did you think? I bet you had a photographic memory, like Abraham Lincoln. You probably remembered everything you every read, saw, and did. That may not be the best kind of thinking. Sometimes pieces of knowledge need to be left out to let other ideas grow. The brain has a peculiar way of storing knowledge, in valleys and mountains. I bet your brain was covered in lots of deep-set wrinkles, valleys filled to the brim.
I forget a lot and I misunderstand a lot. One of my most disliked feelings is confusion. Sometimes it comes and wraps around my brain, constricting until every thought feels squeezed out. Then my mind aches and feels lost in the dirt.
That doesn’t always happen. Sometimes I have eureka moments. The hope-inspiring kind of eureka moments.