Thousand Yard Stares

I once read about a Victorian scientist who was a renowned thinker, the human embodiment of Rodin's sculpture of the same name. However unlike the glorious pose the artist deemed fit for a person lost in the deep realms of contemplation, the scientist (who's name is itself buried deep in the forgotten regions of my own temporal lobes) would become so deep in though that he would become completely oblivious to his physical self and could often be found standing in the spot where he was last observed but with his head resting on the seat of a chair. This peculiar pose caused much hilarity with his servants, family and visitors alike.

So, in comparison, my occasional lapses into reverie, the moments when the soliloquies in my mind render my body temporarily immobile, do not seem worthy of much note, the main symptom being a distance look to my gaze and little else. So why this should cause of either merriment or concern to the people I share this world with is quite beyond me. The real shocking aspect of this to me is that I am apparently alone amongst my peers in this infliction. How is it possible for a fellow being not to have any thoughts deep enough or matters interesting enough to reflect upon for any duration longer than that of a single moment? I am often accused, quite fairly, of being a dreamer, the implication being that this is not a desirable trait in an adult of sound mind. Quite the contrary it seems to me that the ability of deep thought is an admirable one indeed. Certainly it was an intricate part to the greatness of the achievements of the aforemention! ed Victorian scientist whose name escapes me. It saddens me in my heart that the eccentric virtues of intelligence are often dismissed in modern society. I could well be argued that whilst some who are disposed with "thousand yard stares" are thinking of great things, many, like the school child oblivious to the monotonous tones of his teacher gazing absently out of the window, are merely thinking of whimsy and frippery. But without such ethereal thoughts as these would the world be blessed with poets and artists? Would, from these little acorns great oaks grow, if they were so disposed with stuffing their minds with fact, that they have no time to ponder on what this knowledge means and how it relates to the wider world?

...Probably. There are always smart Alecs who can think deeply whilst working or save such thoughts for another time, both of which I am wholly incapable of doing. But the point is however important or not these thoughts maybe it is a shame to let them wander off on unaccompanied into the sunset just because you don't have time to take a few minutes out of the banal day to day rigmarole you are faced with. You never know, if you give your thoughts room enough to grow you could be the greatest thinker of your generation!