Seed of thought
A seed of deep, brooding thought embedded itself into my mind a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know how it got there or why, but it’s there, incessant and ever-controlling. For about a month now, every little thing that happens to me, or anyone around me for that matter, is up for deep deliberation. And it’s all because of a single seed.
This metaphorical seed of thought– a seed that I did not plant myself but simply appeared– has flipped my thoughts from surface-level seawaters to the deepest depths of the ocean. I once looked at the woes of the world with simple sunglasses, but after this seed was planted, I’ve switched to a more entangled eyewear. What I once viewed superficially and simplistically– like a snowflake or a page in a book– has transformed into an abysmal analyzation.
This seed has changed me, and I can’t quite tell if I want it to flourish or perish.
A friend and I are currently reading the same book, and the submerged seed flourished at the sight of that. I was suddenly sent into this corner of my brain that has only been growing since the seed has been planted. In this secret crevice of my mind, I discovered intricate ideas that I haven’t ever seen before.
I thought that by its spindle and sentences, a book had bound us together. As I inhaled the oxygenated words, I was reminded of a simple, yet substantial, thought: we were both experiencing the same written words at the same time. We were both flipping the pages of this binding book; its poetic phrases and moving monologues wove a common thread through each of us.
That’s really deep for two people reading a book at the same time.
That’s the thing, though. I only think that way now. Every thought I have stems from the seed in the vastly expanding, deep-thinking corner of my mind. Before this seed was planted, I wouldn’t have thought twice about reading the same book as someone else. But now, it’s different. Because this seed has changed me, and I’m constantly conflicted over whether I want it to flourish or perish.
I haven’t been able to place a finger on how this wave of deep thinking overtook my mind, and I remain undecided on how I feel about this silly little seed. Life through the lenses of my simple sunnies was, well, simple. I didn’t look at the world with such profound depth; I didn’t look at two people reading the same book with such profound depth. But this seed– it changed my perspective.
Everything is a metaphor to me, now. Everything is deeper than it should be, now.
Which is why I’m so conflicted on my thoughts of it– do I appreciate it for the depth it’s given me or do I despise it for that very reason?
What I am absolutely certain of, though, is that the wave of endless and profound thought has washed up intense introspection.
After a month of this weird little seed flourishing into self-discovery and depth of thought, I have decided that I must know crevices of the world like I know my own mind. While it is sometimes an annoyance to view everything in life with such depth, I wouldn’t know it any other way. While it is sometimes totally unnecessary to place a metaphor on every little thing, I wouldn’t know it any other way.
Because it seems that this seed should have been here my whole life; it’s filtered any superficial thoughts out of my head. It’s allowed me to realize that I don’t think I want to live a life of exteriors and surfaces; Earth and the life inhabiting it deserves depth. Why would you only want to know someone’s favorite color when you could learn why it is their favorite? Why would you merely skim pages of a book when you could inhale the words like they are the air you need to breathe?
The seed embedded in my mind has allowed me to discover oceans of depth that I’ve never swum in until now. The unpredictability of oceans can be intense and scary, which is why I’m still wary of this seed. It’s provided me with such an immense amount of depth– sometimes so much I don’t know how to disperse it.
This permanently planted seed has expanded the once little corner of my mind into a vast field of flourishing flowers that provide both an infuriating and infatuating depth.
I have all of the fields, oceans, and worlds of depth in my mind. And it all started from a single seed.
Abby Wright is a senior entering her fourth and final year on staff for The Central Trend, and second year as Editor in Chief. She values art, Spotify...