Have you ever traced the gestation of an idea in your own mind? It’s difficult, because you never know when one has started, because they can only be recognised in retrospect. It’s only over your shoulder that you can see the starting point, and by then you’re miles away from it, just a blip on the horizon.
But do you know why you are what you are? That’s the question I’m really asking here, the one that is the static that crackles at the bed of your mind, as all the other thoughts flit and fizzle over the top of it. They’re the ones that eventually stick to the bottom of the filter, like sediment, when you allow your mind to drift for long enough. It’s there that you end up, when you need to think, and your mind runs out of trivial problems to come up with solutions for.
I’m not asking the questions because I have the answers; far from it. But I can’t help but feel there’s a shared curiosity to those who’ve at least made it this far, that there is a general discontent with the status quo, that you’ve found yourself rattled by some disturbance or another, even if it’s internal, that’s set you off on a hero’s journey. And who knows, maybe you’ll defeat whatever your big bad is, and end up with your conclusion.
Regardless of where we end up, (and we never end up anywhere, really. We’re always moving), there’s a benefit in knowing where we’ve come from. If you can trace the genus of an idea, you can understand how to nurture it, or how to pluck it clear at the root, if need be. At the very least, you can learn how best to cope with something that is occasionally difficult, because you know how very rewarding it’s going to end up.