Nurturing the Blaze
The river of information swept me under, enveloping my senses. It drug me to the ocean, and washed me up on a cold, rocky foreign beach, gasping like a newborn, deep in a moonless night.
Perceptions and ideas should be able to take the battering and weathering of a torrent of perspectives.
Ideologies and philosophies should be started from sand.
In the dim dreary winter of this rockscape, only arrogance would wade into the surf and challenge the infinite rising and crashing, with its demands of rightness and surety, hollering self-importance against the wind. I have tasted my statistics, or favorite memorized rhetoric tossed back in my face before. Just as I have regurgitated my naivete and narrow-mindedness, the taste thrown back by a cresting wave is just as vile, but wretchedly more powerful.
Instead, like a Neanderthal, I grasp on hands and knees at broken branches and twigs of information. After what feels like two and a half weeks, there are soggy piles of possibilities, stashed carefully above the high water mark on the beach. These possibilities formed in the dark, and mounded larger than I imagined, through the methodical and persistent collection we have poured into our efforts.
We are hoping one will spark now. One has sparked in me, and like puppy love it seems flawless and inextinguishable, like a furnace, surely the technology needed in these dark times. Alighting a fire of an idea is a soul-awakening pursuit, but must be free of the sickening self-centered immaturity to stomp out other flames, or be the sole discoverer.
The egocentric desire to be Who is right cannot be allowed to outshine what is right.
Nurture this small kindling blaze, the process can never be replaced by artificial intelligence, or outsourced. It is the essence of this excursion. It is why we are here. Not bars, gyms, cheap taxis, social events, movie night, or fun.
We are here to set things ablaze that cannot be snuffed out. I hope to help stoke your fires.