Reading, Writing, and Thinking (Or, how to find gold)

I just bought a new book. I wish I knew how many unread books sit on my shelf at home, but I don’t. My guess is over 25. 

What is the draw of buying a new book? Is it the promise of learning? The flex of having a great writer sit on your shelf? The knowledge that one day you could acquire more knowledge? 

I’m not sure. But I’ve come to realize that reading is only one part of learning. Reading only goes so far. Writing must come after. The brain can only hold so many new ideas. It can only compare so many things at once. I’m not talking about writing strictly in the sense that I do–there’s no need to publish work. But personal journaling, note-taking, and diagraming are all important tools to help solidify ideas. 

But reading and writing can’t stand alone. Eventually those dry out as well. This, I do know a lot about. I’ve been reading and writing every single day for more than 400 days in a row. And let me tell you: I just stared for an hour at a blank screen, not knowing what to write, flipping between my favorite writers’ blogs, searching for inspiration. Finally, I went on a short walk, and started pondering this concept. And then boom. I learned the thing I’m writing now. 

Thinking isn’t just sipping a cup of tea in an arm chair, or going on a walk alone. It’s also asking questions, getting second opinions, or testing theories by talking with friends. I have a few friends I try to talk to every so often, because every time I do, so much of the reading and the writing I do becomes clear. 

If learning is like searching for gold, then reading is the sand you put in the tray. Writing is the water you pour on the sand to loosen up the dirt. And thinking is how you shake the tray, separating the gold from the dirt, just enough to find the nuggets. 

If reading is feeling too dense, or too heavy, then start jotting down notes, and doing a little thinking.