Over the past few months I’ve become keenly aware that I forget thoughts like a snake sheds skin.
New ideas arrive and strip off the old, rendering me awe-struck by the rapid pace at which the mind regenerates old patterns into ones it stupidly identifies as new.
After all, dead ideas leave no scars or monuments to be remembered by. So how are we to learn or innovate?
We can deny how important the historical contiuum that marks our thought life is when we have the luxury of forgetting. When forward motion is such an ecstatic task that to look back is for fools. But who has the luxury of forgetting? Those who have no stake in memory. People or movements who gain more from existing within novelty (typically youth or privileged people-groups) and already have an unquestionable institution on which to stand upon.
We do not have that luxury and I believe we will be stronger for it. We are finding our legs at the moment and may find them a little wobbly. A giant that has been in a coma for an unusually long time tends to find that his (or her) legs are sorely underdeveloped due to decades of not walking.
Ideological physical therapy—institutional re/membrance if you will—is necessary in the life of our historic movement. We need to remember how to use muscles we forget we even had in the first place. We need to flex first, then begin to run.
To trace our movements in the coming months I’ve decided to write more often, as we try to steer a noble and stumbling behemoth into the limelight.