Think for a minute. 

How much time do you really spend in silence, just thinking?  I am not talking about the kind of reflecting  that you do on your drive to work, in the shower or even on your 1-mile afternoon jog. I am referring  to the kind of reflection that you do on a day’s retreat, ensconced in a space where there is silence. 

You are not listening to music, you are not reading Fortune 500, you are not watching the news, you are not twittering. You are simply thinking.

How much time do you spend doing that? 

A quick survey of my friends indicate that too few do.  It’s easy to understand why. Who has the time?  In our treadmill society where everyone (family, friends, employees) wants their needs taken care of at the same time, it seems that modern day thinking demands that we be always be in motion. The quiet, reflective kind of pondering appears to be a luxury for which few of us  have the coins.

But is it really? Thinking is the way we actively develop new ideas, invent strategy and get creative. It’s  one of the hardest things for people to do, let alone do well. 

Recently a friend who owned  a small  technology firm told me that he was going to close up  shop and take a sabbatical. I was green with envy. Not many of us are willing and able to make such a complete mental shift. But it was only after speaking with him  that I realised the process of thinking requires a kind  of discipline that allows you to see that  it’s real value lies in asking yourself questions relevant to your life  and then considering the range of possible answers. 

“I had been thinking of  making a switch for a year,” my friend said, “every month I took half-day to see how it would work, the impact  it would create.   and to examine my  options.”

My friend never found easy answers.

“At first, most of my questions led to other questions, but I trusted the process .”

Turns out that generating definitive, single-pointed answers is the result of only one kind of thinking. The second, perhaps more powerful kind of reflection,  as in the case of my friend, leads to less answers and more, you guessed it,  questions. And that’s okay. 

To help his process my friend gave himself  a timeframe.  He accepted the answers at the end of a 12 month process.  Another way to come to a conclusion, I suppose,  is  to ponder upon something until your original question yields no further questions. In my case, I accept an answer only when it profoundly illuminates my original question. It’s must be a true light bulb moment.

I am still a big believer in my Ideas Jam Day, even after 11 years in business.  On that day I switch off my cell,  I close off all the external noise  and I think. Who do I want to be? What would I like to have? What should I share more of? How can I be more effective? What is the bigger meaning  to my life?

These are my questions.  I hope they get you thinking.