Remembering How To Think

As I waited last week for a hearing to begin (a rare appearance for me in front of a town board), I realized that I don't really have much unused time which, put another way, means that I do not take much time to just think without doing something to keep myself occupied. As far as I can tell, this is true of many people who I know. We work, turn on the television or radio, read, talk, play games, attend meetings and the list goes on, but we rarely just think.

For me, the closest I come to just thinking is my writing. I know that writing is not the same as purely thinking, but it does seem to focus my thought process in a way that I am unable to do when I try to just sit or walk, and think. Perhaps over the years, my ability to think without something facilitating the process has been lost or perhaps it never developed. In fact, I remember my solo trip around the western parts of the United States (with a 400 mile two day venture into western Canada) in 1975 (or was it 1974).

Although this has nothing to do with my story, I will not (for posterity) that I started in Omaha driving my blue 1966 Opel Cadet station wagon that I fondly named Sugar Magnolia. I drove to Colorado where I visited a friend in Boulder, headed north to Montana and Wyoming where the blue sky continues forever, through Idaho (to where I will return shortly - in this entry), to Spokane where I visited with my brother (who then was in law school at Gonzaga) and waited for new parts for my car that was not holding up well. Eventually, I spent time in Seattle, British Columbia, a small town in northern Canada (one night), and then drove down through Oregon, California and across the southwestern states ending with a 36 hour drive so that I could attend my grandmother's 80th birthday (back when 80 seemed so old - but it doesn't anymore). So many stories in this journey that will have to wait for another time.

So, back to the story (which really isn't that exciting). When in Idaho, I returned to a location (it can't be called a town or even a village) named "Burgdorf Junction". My brother and I had first visited Burgdorf Junction on our trip to visit Spokane. That was a very special trip that started with a car that wouldn't go and ended with a tighter bond than I had ever had with my brother - but that to will have to wait for another time. Burgdord consisted of a series of log cabins spread over the lush green hillside, a two story log cabin hotel, and a one story log cabin building with a store and who knows what else that was adjacent to a large hot springs. Just to see if I had imagined this beautiful place (where Teddy Roosevelt used to hunt, or so we were told), I just googled it and here is a picture - exactly as I remembered it. Now, the reason for this story (beside the preservation of my history). I remember driving out of Burgdorf to a picnic area where I was the only person. I had decided to find a place, just like this, were I could spend a day in thought. I remember wondering it what I was supposed to be thinking about. What do people think about? Perhaps the meaning of life or perhaps something small like the meaning of my life or perhaps something else, I wasn't sure then and I am not sure now. Even if I knew, where does one begin and how does one learn from just thinking silently. SOme people must be good at this, but I don't think I am. I certainly wasn't back in Burgdorf Junction for I remember the feeling of discomfort with the concept of trying to think and the relief when I have myself a "get out of jail" pass after a short time (I think it was an hour, but it seemed like an alternative. I believe that the importance of this occurrence was that now, over 30 years later, the memories and feelings still rise to the surface when I think about thinking.

In any case, I hope that this writing expands my thinking skills. I already have noticed that it seems to be expanding my ability to observe for I notice many things that I don't remember noticing before, and my ability to make connections and draw conclusions from what I see or experience (perhaps so that I will have something to write about, although I often write about nothing and then try to find a message in the writing. I think that I will head to bed now, turn off the lights and try to think - but I bet I just fall asleep and let the thoughts be caught up in dreams.