It wasn't until after I experienced
Werner's work
for the first time that I realized what I'd called
thinking isn't really thinking at all. If someone asked me
why I was quiet, for example, I would answer "Shh! I'm
thinking.". What I really should have said is "Shh!
I've got something on my mind.".
"Shh! I'm thinking" implies intentionally thinking. It
implies when I'm thinking I'm intentionally doing
something. Looking closer at this, I noticed what I'd obfuscated with
thinking really has no intentionality in it at all. I noticed I'd
obfuscated thinking with having something on my mind. I noticed I had
no distinction for what thinking really is, and nor could I articulate
the difference between thinking and having something on my mind. Any
differences I saw between the two, I see now were at worst
naïve and at best inaccurate. Furthermore "Shh! I'm
thinking" implies "I'm thinking thoughts". Thats not true. It's
obfuscated. What's closer to the truth is I don't think thoughts.
What's closer to the truth is thoughts think me.
Left to its own devices, the distinction between thinking and having
something on my mind surely and
inexorably
slips away from me. Like all distinctions it has a short
half-life.
If I don't recreate it from time to time, it
devolves
to the point where there isn't any difference between when
I'm thinking, and when I have something on my mind.
When I'm thinking, it's neither the same state nor is it the same
experience nor is it the same intentionality (it's
especially not the same intentionality) as when I have
something on my mind. The two are nowhere near synonymous, even though
they're often spoken, without
rigor,
interchangeably.
I don't always keep it this crisp. And when I don't, it doesn't serve
me.
When I'm thinking, when I'm really thinking, when I'm really
thinking for my Self, I'm creating the space for something to
be. I'm allowing something to become. When I'm thinking, what
I'm really doing is bringing something into existence. In other words,
when I'm thinking in the way I'm distinguishing thinking here, what I'm
doing is bringing forth the possibility of something
being. Thinking this way is a purely creative act.
When I've got something on my mind, on the other hand, there's no
creativity in it. There's no intentionality in it. My mind, being the
collection of all records of all my experiences, particularly those
records I need quick access to for protection and survival, from time
to time throws out complete multi-level multi-sensory holograms of
earlier times it's reminded of, making sure I watch out
for dangers (both real and imaginary) of the past, and not fall into
them again today.
There's neither creativity nor intentionality nor freedom in this.
My mind is a machine
hell-bent on survival whose logic system is "Everything is the same as
everything else ... except not always" as Werner Erhard
points out. In this sense, having something on my mind is pure
automaticity. In this sense, there's no thinking involved at all in
having something on my mind. So when I obfuscate thinking with having
something on my mind, I'm killing off the possibility of
really thinking for my Self.
When I look, I notice there's always something on my mind,
most of it having no relation whatsoever to what I intend nor to what I
think nor to what I create.
The machine
isn't ever switched off. For me, the opportunity to live Life
transformed is to distinguish that which is on my mind automatically,
from that which I create and bring forth by thinking for my Self. In
other words, the opportunity to live Life transformed is to distinguish
thinking as an intentional creative act, from having something on my
mind which is simply
the machine's
ongoing automaticity.
If there's any really worthwhile definition of human beings growing
up ie of coming of age (I would say of becoming
enlightened were it not for the unnecessarily restrictive
eastern connotation), then mastering this distinction is
it.