Great Insights Need Not Come From Great Events

Walking down the street, having lunch by oneself, staring at the sky...life is full of moments that seem to be in between more important events. Yet, even as one physically takes a break in between those important events that require full concentration, one's mind never really does. The mind always wonders, for a purpose if needed, and aimlessly, when there is no particular urgent need. Some would define aimlessness as boredom, and try to find some aim to end the boredom. Scrolling through social media on the train, knitting a sweater at night, writing this blog...they can all constitute intentional attempts to be productive.

In the process, we learn that aimless thinking is bad. And situations that lead to aimless thinking as equally bad. So we walk down the street faster, so that we can get to the destination, where important business is waiting for us, just a bit quicker. We wolf through our lonesome lunches so that we can get back to work. And we feel guilty, wondering what is the purpose of life when we stare at the sky just a bit too long. The ideal, it seems, is to minimize time not devoided to concretely defined tasks, so that life is purposeful, and in turn fulfilling.

I often question whether that correlation between purposeful and fulfilling is valid. When important business is being conducted, the mind is just so focused on the task at hand. The narrow concentration excludes all thoughts that one defines as extraneous. Sure, creativity is warranted, but innovative ideas should just be within the scope of the task. But if life is just about achieving one aim after another, then where is the time to figure out whether those aims are the right ones to achieve? What aims should be next when there seem to be no more valid ones on the horizon?

That is when aimless thinking becomes fulfilling. Letting the mind truly wonder, without concrete purpose, goals, or desirable outcomes, and one might just be surprised where it gets to. Maybe it will notice connections between completely unrelated things, like the shape of a cloud in the sky and the bread roll served for lunch. Maybe unnoticed details, like the sprouting white flower on the pavement that signals the arrival of spring. Many of the thoughts are fleeting and quickly forgotten like a dream, but others stick around a bit longer, waiting to be noticed for something more.

Those lingering thoughts are the foundations for a new insight. The insight does not need to be profound. It could just be a simple reflection on one's life philosophy, personal values, and what is assigned as important. But by holding onto those reflections, we are given a chance to explore something new. Thinking more about a value or philosophy would at some point need more than just trivial reflections originating in an aimless thought. It may just lead to a brand-new purpose, spawning a whole new set of important tasks waiting to be completed.

When asked for insight, some people struggle. They struggle not because they have no opinions or thoughts, but because they feel like to be truly insightful, reflections must come from some major event that anybody who hears about it would consider life-changing. This is a misconception. Profound insight can come from mundane everyday occurrences just as it might from times of great personal upheaval. The mind never stops working, so thoughts can always emerge, whether one feels the moment is productive and purposeful, or boring and guilt-inducing.

The importance of insight is ultimately not about what induced it, but how. Connections between entirely different matters or details noticed for the very first time induce self-reflection about what is the meaning of these brand-new phenomena in one's life. By understanding why one noticed these, rather than something else that could have been noticed, something new about one's likes and priorities is revealed and understood. The subjects and contexts of these brand-new phenomena need not be something commonly seen as unique. A piece of cloud, bread, or flower would be just as suitable.

Personal insights are, well, personal. Not everyone has stories to tell of superhuman heroism or movie-worthy tragedies. People should not need to feel the need to create such to arrive at personal insights. The most vibrant intellectual vitality is shown in making the most forgettable subjects unforgettable in interpretation and noticing personal attachment to subjects that no one else notices. It is not difficult to learn something extraordinary from moments of extraordinary rarity. Great minds, however, can conjure extraordinary thoughts even in those in-between boredom.