I was reading Thoreau last night

I haven't gotten very far in Walden, just as far as him finishing the building of his house. But among the various passages that struck me was this:

I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and threw them out the window in disgust. How, then, could I have a furnished house? I would rather sit in the open air, for no dust gathers on the grass, unless where man has broken ground.

That passage says volumes about our need for useless things around us while our minds lie empty and dusty. I suspect it was these words and similar ones that caused a friend to give me the book. I tend to surround myself with things (not expensive things, but things most people would not find sentimentality in, that I invest emotion into and hoard), but I have a largely untrained mind. Oh, I went to college, had a classical education in the humanities, etc. But so much of my day is spent reacting to the things around me rather than in quiet contemplation. Like my house, my mind is organised in piles and shelves that lean, and compared to my friend, is most likely quite dim. I'm probably more self-aware than most, and maybe even think a little more than most, but I realise I could be more. And my memory, alas, my memory. It's like everything I knew--those useless facts, those overarching paradigms, are running like sand through an hourglass away from my thoughts. Maybe that's age, or the blood sugar's effect on my brain, etc. I don't know. I seem to be able to remember numbers best, but have no reason to.

Years ago I fell into a trap whereby I compared myself to someone who is extremely intelligent, beyond the chart, has an excellent memory, as well as a trained mind. I feel quite stupid in comparison, and that, coupled with the attempt to disabuse me of my need to feel special by latching onto the genius label I was given as a child, meant that after awhile I started feeling like I was, well, dumb.

Socrates said (or at least Plato told us so) that he was wise, as the Oracle of Delphi had pronounced, only because he recognised his own ignorance. He also said, 'The unexamined life is not worth living.' It is a mantra that has been repeated to me so often over the years by my mentor, who is also the one who gave me Walden and Other Writings by Henry David Thoreau.

It may have taken years for things to really settle in, years of examining my life and the world around me with training wheels and a steadying hand, but it's high time I started really thinking and analysing on my own. I've been very fortunate to have two very special educations, and it's time I started really exercising both mind and body. Now that I'm older, I'm a little wiser and more mature, and can appreciate all this better than when I was younger. So much of my time when I was younger was spent surmounting my baggage and my irrationality, my mental issues and psychology. Now I can concentrate on how I think about and interact with the world. And I need to do some housecleaning in my head first, dusting off and pitching a few things. :)