Thinking Without Words

One Friday, the last day in a week-long break from classes, I returned to campus for some peace, quiet and access to the school's database (I also had a research paper due). It was an unexpectedly good decision. After spending the night, I got a chance to take a walk outside during the beautiful afternoon. I do not use the term "beautiful" lightly. The absents of students from Campbell this week has apparently done wonders for the campus's complexion. Things just seemed incredibly peaceful and full of life. I visited Saylor park, where new grass was growing in a fresh patches just old enough to walk on. This grass had been lucky enough to be seeded in a place not too many people cross, so it was even and intensely green. I took a seat in the gazebo, and the breeze was very sweet, almost explicitly suggesting that I rethink everything. In moments like that, when the weather is perfect and nobody's around, suddenly nice things and expensive clothes lose all their value. I saw a dark Maxima drive by, and all I could think was it must suck to be in that car, so separate from everything. Suddenly, a dirty jeep with removable canvas cab made perfect sense.

On the grass there was a group of black birds picking at seeds and bugs. I wondered how they, without the benefit of language, might approached thinking. All of my thoughts come to me as words, so without words, how does thinking work? It posed somewhat of a challenge to me. Could I think without using words? How long could I keep it up? What would the benefits be in such a way of thinking? Well, I tried it. It's a very difficult thing to do, but I found that once I got the hang of it, thinking without words was very peaceful and really quite refreshing. 

It's a very simple way, so complex thoughts are more tricky to conceive all at once, and therefore, I caught myself simply not thinking at all sometimes. I wonder if a similar issue crops up for those birds.

However, there are still some benefits too. Because my thoughts came in images and feelings more or less one at a time, my thinking tended to be clearer and less confusing, not to mention extremely colorful. I am not certain whether color is something one can apply in general to thoughts, but it seemed to me much like putting on glasses for the first time. 

Not thinking in paragraphs, wordless inclinations are usually the medium of choice, making thoughts more flexible, if a bit vague. Of course, it is necessary on occasion to talk to others, so the transition between inclining and responding in words can be a rather jarring one; however, I assume practice would work that out.

Though I will probably not take up this way of thinking as my main method, I do see it as a very refreshing vacation from thinking in text, and in some instances, it may be the path to understanding. It is hard to look from a different person's perspective or work out an abstruse concept by using words alone, so in many ways, imagination, which I take this wordless thinking to be, can be a vital means to wisdom.