How Are You Feeling? How Are You Thinking?

I suppose it would be a little disconcerting for someone to ask you the latter question. It would be like someone greeting you with “How is your mind?” or “How is your heart?” instead of their just asking “How are you?” and not expecting much of a response from you beyond “Fine,” or “I am well.”

So, how are you thinking? What are you thinking? My guess is, for most of us, we are thinking about something related to sports, or politics, or family matters, or something we want, or food, or some physical or material thing that gives us pleasure or that worries us. It may be seasonal (Thanksgiving, Christmas, the 4th of July, or a church or company picnic) or in the news, or some demand being made upon us (a pending bill, a work assignment), a confrontation with someone in our life, or something presented to us—to our senses (a skunk or a sunset or loud music). And it is very likely presented to us through the media.

What would you think about analyzing what you are thinking? That is, would it be too radical a thought to just stop and do some thinking, some pondering, some reflective analysis, having some ideas? Your ideas may not be original (I doubt if many of mine are) but they can be valuable as you consider them, as you roll them over in your mind, look for them, and regularly put them on your daily agenda. Instead of constantly being acted upon, how about becoming the actor with the tool of thought a little more often? Directed action takes prior thought. The thought may be self-generated or may be suggested by reading others’ thoughts and insights. It may even be contributive to your happiness: “Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding.” (Proverbs 3:13)

Consider this provocative thought by Stephen Spender (from ‘I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great’:

What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog, the flowering of the Spirit.

I end with this: Have you ever thought about making as your vocation the contemplative life? If that seems a bit preposterous, how about a contemplative one day out of seven? Or an hour out of a day? Or at least a heartfelt prayer each day?

Think about it.