A Living Organism
Another quick advice.
As you may already know, I keep telling people to anchor their knowledge-seeking in their actual lives.
Make it practical.
Make it practical.
Make it practical.
Otherwise, knowledge-seeking easily becomes artificial.
Many people imagine knowledge as books being stacked on shelves inside the mind. I do not.
Your knowledge is more like a living organism.
When new information approaches, it is not welcomed automatically. It is examined.
Your intellect already possesses its own harmony. That harmony is not the same thing as the information you happen to remember.
When a new idea arrives, the intellect turns it around, looks at it from different angles, and checks whether it belongs.
If the shape of that idea matches the existing structure...*click*...the idea settles into place and becomes part of the larger organism.
But if it does not fit, the intellect rarely adopts it.
Sometimes it throws it away.
Sometimes it hides it somewhere in the attic.
Sometimes it stuffs it into a closet like an awkward piece of furniture that nobody knows where to put.
Years later, the person still "knows" it, yet it never became part of him.
This is one reason practical knowledge is so powerful.
When knowledge emerges from your work, your family, your worship, your mistakes, your questions, and your daily affairs, it arrives already looking for a home.
And when it finds one, it stays.
As you may already know, I keep telling people to anchor their knowledge-seeking in their actual lives.
Make it practical.
Make it practical.
Make it practical.
Otherwise, knowledge-seeking easily becomes artificial.
Many people imagine knowledge as books being stacked on shelves inside the mind. I do not.
Your knowledge is more like a living organism.
When new information approaches, it is not welcomed automatically. It is examined.
Your intellect already possesses its own harmony. That harmony is not the same thing as the information you happen to remember.
When a new idea arrives, the intellect turns it around, looks at it from different angles, and checks whether it belongs.
If the shape of that idea matches the existing structure...*click*...the idea settles into place and becomes part of the larger organism.
But if it does not fit, the intellect rarely adopts it.
Sometimes it throws it away.
Sometimes it hides it somewhere in the attic.
Sometimes it stuffs it into a closet like an awkward piece of furniture that nobody knows where to put.
Years later, the person still "knows" it, yet it never became part of him.
This is one reason practical knowledge is so powerful.
When knowledge emerges from your work, your family, your worship, your mistakes, your questions, and your daily affairs, it arrives already looking for a home.
And when it finds one, it stays.
Woven into the fabric of your existence.