To Think or Not to Think

It is the last Sunday of March. The sun slips through my window, almost in contrast to the cold air.

Church bells are ringing, as if calling me outside along with the sun. On a day like this, I would normally be outdoors, cycling or walking in the park. It is my usual Sunday habit. In this kind of weather, it feels like an opportunity not to be missed. Yet I find myself sitting at my desk. Missing such chances is something I am quite good at.

There is a quietness to writing. For me, writing is a small break from life. Most of the time, in the rush of daily life, there is little space to think. The only way to notice this is to slow down. But these days, we have neither the time nor the patience. We even hurry when we try to slow down.

In modern life, we have almost forgotten how to think. Maybe we still think, but even that feels rushed, as if we are always trying to get somewhere. It seems we do not really need to think anymore. Just as inventions arise from necessity, when necessity disappears, thinking recedes. Now, things outside us do the thinking. Even a trash bin, in a sense.

As René Descartes said, “I think, therefore I am.” If that is true, many of us have already disappeared from this world. If we have handed our ability to think over to objects, perhaps we have exchanged places with them. Without thinking, what difference remains between a human and an object?

Maybe the problem is not that we do not think, but that we avoid it. Not thinking is easy. Thinking is uncomfortable. It shows what we do not want to see. We grow used to comfort quickly; when faced with difficulty, we step back. Not thinking, then, becomes a form of escape.

Thinking, however, leaves us exposed. The mind is like a dark forest. It is unknown, unsettling, and full of surprises. As you move through it, your makeup fades; everything you have put on falls away like leaves. In the end, you are left alone with yourself and your thoughts. There is nothing to hide behind. In your own mind, you are vulnerable.

That is why we fear thinking. This fear is not new. Since Adam and Eve, humans have feared being exposed. Thinking means accepting ourselves in our full nakedness. Deep down, what we fear most is encountering ourselves.

Nature, however, does not fear being bare. It has nothing to hide. When a tree loses its leaves in winter, it does not try to conceal itself.

Humans do. And as they hide, their fears multiply, their shadows grow. They feel ashamed of themselves, of their nature, of their essence.

To accept ourselves in our full nakedness is to face our shadow. When there is nothing left to hide, we stop fighting our thoughts. Perhaps this is exactly where freedom begins.

Or perhaps what we truly fear is freedom itself.

Because to be bare is to be free.