Out, Out, Out

Should anyone be so inclined, they could come into my office and rifle through the drawers and cabinets. And on such an occasion, they would find a box overflowing with notebooks and notecards. And on every page, and every card, there’s often little more than a word or two, often so hastily scribbled that it’s nearly illegible.

There’s no reason why that pile exists other than sentimentality. On the rare occasion that they later hold any real or lasting value, the words, and the attached thoughts that go with them, are digitized and filed away. The cards are little more than a little monument to all the bad ideas I have. What is important is the act itself, of excavating thoughts as they come out of your mind. Set them aside, and instead of worrying that they’ll disappear, leaving you forever wondering of their worth, you’ll rest easy knowing the one hundred terrible ideas you had can be tossed away.

You have great things to do and great thoughts to think. Get the ideas, all of them, out, into the open, and let them thrive or wither on their own accord.