The Discipline of Clear Thinking in a Noisy World

“No matter how far you urinate, the last drop always falls at your feet” is a Nigerian proverb that subtly speaks to the consequences of our actions. Accountability is as stubborn as a mule. You can aim outward and muster the energy to even win a peeing competition but the final outcome always circles back like a boomerang with vengeance.

Before the advent of social media, I was an ardent cyclist. In as much as the two items appear to be as unrelated as chalk and cheese, I will tie up the loose ends and expound on the connection. One Saturday morning, I was forced to abruptly cut short my morning ride. Not because of the sweltering heat or lack of motivation. In fact, I had plenty of that and yearned for the break of dawn to put my feet on the pedal. It was because of a miscalculation that left me with both a bruised ankle and ego. Perhaps this is a story for another day.

As I headed back home, my attention was drawn to the common area of the apartment complex where the desktop computers were availed to all and sundry. I took a detour and the rest is history. Shortly thereafter, I logged into the analog computer after several dial in attempts and incorrect password use. Was delighted when the “You’ve got mail” notification came in loud and clear.

I had heard all sorts of tales about social media and curiosity got the best of me. I fumbled with the technology and within no time, opened a Myspace account. Was quickly drawn to it and spent hours on end logged in. The platform didn’t rule the space for long. Not too long thereafter, I signed up for another one still in use to date.

Soon cycling took the back burner and I got swayed by social media. Instead of riding on Saturday mornings, I would ride my bike as far as the common area and log in to catch up on the happenings around the world. Recovering my footing has been a battle that has taken eighteen years and counting.

I am yet to win the battle and I fall prey to the temptation of scrolling through the phone every now and then. In as much as it is hard to admit, I am paying the price for my actions via the lost hours of productivity and foggy thinking courtesy of social media. Not to mention the accumulation of fat around my waist due to not cycling.

“Hot temper will never cook yams” is an African proverb that speaks to the vanity of uncontained anger. One can be furious but the internal heat will more than likely not get dinner on the table. Only calm, logical action like literally lighting a fire will yield result and put a palatable meal on the table.

My father once visited an entertainment establishment in the oldest town in UK. While there, he played a game of snooker and won against the best player fronted. This did not augur well with the men therein. A foreigner whose skin color stirred up negative emotions deeply ingrained in their psyche had just ruffled their feathers.

The place became louder and the men became visibly upset. They huddled in a corner and deliberated on something. The bar owner quickly pulled my father to the side, told him to sit still at the counter and have his drink quietly until the noise level subsided. This was strategic thinking on the part of the owner. My father was clueless and unaware of the anger he had stirred. Prior to the shift, the more he won, the redder their skin got. One of the gentlemen in the crowd reached out to his pocket and this is what caught the bar owner’s attention and triggered his quick decision to yank my father out of their physical space.

As the dust settled, the owner let the cat out of the bag. The rowdy gentlemen had hatched a plan to push my dad out of the vicinity and into the nearby river. They were so blinded with rage that it distorted their thinking. The price one can pay for emotional reaction by far outweighs the benefit of strategic thinking. This clearly exposes the danger of emotional reaction and makes it quite evident that hot temper will never cook yams. It’s best to let the dust settle before acting. A Goliath can still lose if the odds are stacked against him. In this case, the terrain and foreign status worked against my father hence drinking in silence turned out to be the best way out.

“A hunter with only one arrow doesn’t shoot carelessly” is a proverb of unknown origin; possibly African based on the context. It speaks to the importance of sound decision making. When one has limited resources or opportunities, one ought to be precise and focused in decision making. Losing the one and only arrow has dire consequences and ramifications that can impact future generations in profound ways.

Whoever said wisdom comes with age must have been on to something. I clearly lacked it the day before the US Embassy interview. Were it not for my father, foolishness would have derailed my plans. I was barely out of my teens and thought I knew it all. I planned to paint the town red whereas the visa was nowhere in sight as of yet.

At that point in time, I knew nothing about the laws of nature regarding “act as if you have it and you will indeed have it.” Instead, I hang on to the words of my friends who convinced me that the high school examination we completed was by far harder than the upcoming interview. Getting a visa to the land of opportunity would be a piece of cake. Standing in front of a glass window to answer a question or two is nothing compared to solving algebraic equations.

Looking back in hindsight, I’m glad I yielded to my father’s request to head home for a grilling before the set interview. His sleep over it philosophy has served me well time and time again. Exploring all options, possible lines of attack and adequately preparing a response works wonders. When I stood in front of the glass window, I was well equipped and utilized my one and only arrow well enough to hit the jackpot. Clarity of thought clearly accords one a competitive advantage. Rest and preparation played a pivotal role in this regard.