posted on Jun, 12 2009 @ 03:01 AM
How many of you truly "ruminate at length" about anything? I try to, but its often more difficult that it seems.
To me, "runinating" involves a quiet turning-over in the mind of a superficially simple truth; perhaps a truth long well-known and reduced to
snappish cliche, or something so accepted as to be mindlessly "filed away" and "accesssed when necessary."
The Art of Rumination consists of taking one of these ancient, simple truths, the more cliche and seemingly played-out the better, and turning it over
and over in your mind. Busy people can break the process up as necessary...runinate when you can, and when inturrepted, put a "mental bookmark"
wherever you were. Return to your ruminations, in the train, in the car, while commuting or having a quiet aparatif...whatever.
A more intense, harder-to-achieve rumination would involved more prolonged periods of silence and lack of intrurruption...maybe you'd ruminate while
gazing out the window, maybe you could idly scrawl this and that in a notebook to keep things moving (although writing too much can be dangerous...it
can take your easily to more analytical thoughts.)
During rumination, you take time. You probe for "the truth," but you son't necessarily expect firm answers: now, soon, or perhaps even ever. You
poke and prod at the subject from different angles. You look at your own assumptions, perhaps questioning them to a greater or lesser extent. You
re-visit things you thought you knew.
Topics for rumination can range from the most profound philosophical truths to various personal issues or questions about job, strategy...the range is
The point is not to "get an answer." Its to let the idea percolate, slowly, like a fine coffee. At the end will be a cup to drink.
How many actually think this way at length anymore. Its a lot harder than it sounds. Can you carry out sustained rumination (without letting your
shattered attention span drag you onto a different topic) for 15 minutes...an hour? A day? Some of the old coots in the rural town I grew up in sat
there with plugs of chaw in their lips on the general store porch and seemed to do nothing but ruminate, all day long, day after day.
It strikes me as a profound tragedy how this type of thought has dwindled...and how little mourned its passing.