Talking about one’s thought process is always interesting. Some people process ideas by talking through them, others by quiet contemplation. Sometimes I’m a little bit of both. I’ll talk through a plot point when I’m stuck, but more often, I’ll mull it over to myself.
People often refer to me as a quiet person. I remember back in my undergrad, during my senior year, I gave a presentation to a class, and afterward my professor told me that was the most she had heard me speak during my entire time at college. Oh yeah, she was also my advisor. It surprised me because I saw my thoughts as being incredibly loud and had forgotten that I’m the only one who processes them.
I didn’t really discuss things in class, until I went on to study my masters. Now I’m a teacher, and I have quiet students who don’t want to break out of their shell. Here’s to the quiet thinkers.
Circuit Board Quilt
i can’t get it to stop
these pulses that go on
and on like a circuit board
that’s never switched off
how do all the wires work?
amazing that somebody came up with them
and could store ideas on something so small,
the accumulation of technology
built up over time
that reminds me i need to remember to make a lesson plan
and maybe eat lunch before 3pm
for a change
change—it’s easier to do the math in my head
when i’m thinking of money,
but honestly i miss european currency
where it wasn’t all quarters
and they actually had a twenty-cent piece,
and another coin for a pound or two euro
or maybe my mind
is more like a quilt
with threads intertwined
one on top of another
on top of another
until I can’t see the pattern
but it’s as if everything is connected
it’s been a while since i made my first and only quilt
maybe i should pick up sewing again
i’ve heard it said
that a man’s mind holds compartments,
boxes if you will,
one of which contains nothing—
the nothing box—
where they simply exist
a man’s mind, who am I kidding?
my sister says she has one, a nothing box
but in my mind,
where would all the energy go?
i’ve learned to deal
with long stretches of no activity
boredom some might call it—
i’d be lying if I didn’t agree—
but i’ve found a way to dream up stories
while sorting shelves,
listening to music and humming along,
all the while ready to shuffle the cards
mid-song to have a conversation instead
i can pick up where i left off
halfway through a stich
or maybe i’ll use my stitch remover—humility tool—
and start something altogether new
Let’s chat! What did you think of the poem? What’s your thought process like?