Thinking, and tools for thinking

Why am I so fascinated by this?

If I were to “satisfy” this attraction, how would I do it? I mean, if it’s an obsession, a continuous desire, why do I have it and keep having it?

“Tools” is the first part of the attraction. I think of something that empowers, that lets me do what I cannot do without it. I’ve always been drawn to the armor, the sword: facing a “jungle of problems” with equipment that amplifies me.

But I’d be confusing the fact that “tools for thinking” aren’t necessarily physical trappings, crutches to strap on, or drills to grip, but rather methods, ways, attitudes that concern my thought, my mind.

Of course, tangible tools exist: books, pen and paper, whiteboards, audiobooks, podcasts, people who talk to you and guide you, but also playing cards, tokens, board games, sticky notes, hourglasses, timers, highlighters, colors, brushes, and so on.

In theory, if blended with a process that aids thought, anything can be a mental tool.

A dinner with friends, for example, is for me a powerful tool for thinking. It’s only when I’m in the company of others, around a table, that I manage to have the most memorable conversations, to explore the most abstruse and fascinating topics. Of course, the people make the difference, as does the place, the spread, and above all, the food.

But then if everything can be a tool for thinking, by definition, nothing is. Or rather, how could I identify specific ones to suggest to someone else who might want to use them?

Probably it’s the method and the use one makes of them, toward certain ends, that makes the difference. I imagine a tool for thought as: “something, someone, or a way of thinking” that helps me approach a topic or problem differently, hopefully more effectively, that brings me, if not solutions, at least alternative and stimulating ways of looking at my goals.

I must confess: dinner with fun and stimulating friends is my favorite tool for thinking.

When shall we meet?