The Noise of Knowing. (1 min 23 sec)

What is a thought? A fleeting whisper in the mind, an echo of memory or experience? Or is it a shape we've assigned to something much deeper? 

Now, what is thinking? Is it the mental treadmill that never seems to stop — churning out words, images, concepts? Or is thinking just a mechanism we use to pretend we know something when in reality, we’re searching blind in the dark?

If thought is memory, then what happens when there’s no memory, no name, no label? Does the thought still exist? Or are we left with the only honest answer: “I don’t know.” But who is the “I” that doesn’t know? And what is there to even know? If it were truly important, why don’t you already know it? 

Maybe the more important question is: If you do know it, do you even need to think about it at all? Does knowledge ever really require thought — or is thought just a noisy stand-in for knowing? 

Think about this: When you ask me my name or where I live, I can spit it out in an instant. Why? Because I've rehearsed it. I’ve etched it into memory. But if you ask me something truly challenging — something nobody has the answer to, something that can’t be tucked neatly into a book — my mind starts its search. And what does it find? Nothing. Just a big, blank "I don’t know."

Here’s the thing: If you're still following these thoughts, good, because we’re dancing in the space between knowing and not-knowing. And the real punchline? Maybe thought is just the noise we make to avoid sitting with the unknown.

#thinkgod
I am sorry.
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you.