Some time ago, I was taking a stroll by Fort Mason in San Francisco with a new friend. We were talking about the inputs we let into our lives, a conversation that felt strangely fitting when set against the idyllic backdrop of the ocean and tree canopies.
My friend talked about wanting to diversify the inputs she let into her mind. I thought that this was a fantastic model — imagining external influences as inputs, and her resulting thoughts and actions as outputs. We reflected on the variety of forms that the inputs could take. Art, for sure. The people we choose to spend time with. Mediums like books. I explained my love of podcasts excitedly.
My friend was thoughtful for a moment. Then she said, "For a while, I really liked podcasts. Then I stopped listening to them, because I realized that I wanted to listen to myself more."
This struck me, because the concept of listening to myself was so foreign. For many years, I've thought of my mind as something to tame or to use to my advantage. Meditative moments were times to silence my internal dialogue. Other times, thoughts occurred to me either randomly or as a reaction to outside stimuli.
What my friend was hinting at was that her mind had something of its own to express at all times. It was up to her to tune into this stream of thought.
I think this stream of consciousness is perhaps where all novel ideas and all creative breakthroughs come from. The goal of meditation and emotional regulation, then, is not to silence the mind. It's to clean up the noise within so that we can hear these thoughts.
External influences can be immensely useful in this model. They can kickstart some of these internal thought processes, push us down rabbit holes that are intriguing, or hint at related areas to explore.
To reply you need to sign in.