You know Zedd’s hit song Clarity? It’s not a serenade to a timeless lover, no, but a tribute to the sweet minutes of solace when one takes a dump. Yes, I said it. Only in these mundane moments can you unearth a bit of clarity in life.
Let’s not shy away now. Excretion is fundamentally what makes us the primal beings we are. We unapologetically inhale food most of the time so it has to come out one way or another. Yet amidst this socially discarded process of human activity, one of filth and the occasional toilet destruction, lies something beautiful.
I have braved new thinkings and fleshed out old ones, connected seemingly sore ideas, explored uncharted realms of creativity and came to epiphanies when I am on the toilet seat – ahem – throne of thought. It’s different then merely sitting at your desk or bed or wherever else. When you do your business, it’s a prime excuse to interrupt the hectic and reflect. You are completely and perfectly alone with only your ass and mind running wild for company. You are forced to come to terms with your raw and unfiltered thoughts. More often than not, unforgiving clarity ensues.
It is nature’s comical version of quality control for both your physical and mental well-being. Slow your goddamn self, would you, and take a breather. Discard that extra appendage of a phone and whatever bathroom entertainment you deem worthy. It’s the royal throne, after all. You and your musings only are entitled. These are golden nuggets of time life has graciously planned for you to sink mercilessly into the depths of your own mind. Do not waste it on mind-numbing newsfeeds and a 3 months old Martha Stewart’s Living.
And hey, when that quick dump turns into a hot shower escapade, you might even lose yourself in a brilliant inception of thoughts. When you are naked, you are as intimate with your thoughts than ever. Physically, you’re stripped to the core and mentally, it follows. No filter.
They do say the washroom is a man’s fortress of solitude. My money is that our greatest philosophers possibly held the defecating position when they derived world-changing theories. Perhaps my fellow thoughtcatalog writers can attest – when that dash of insight has struck from the all-too familiar toilet bowl.
So if you’re not already are, I challenge you. Next time you do the deed, holding your stomach and all, fully embrace The Thinker position with your fists clenched fittingly under your chin. Do not marvel at how shiny your bathroom floor is (or scrutinize over a long overdue clean). Map out the why’s, what’s and who’s that has shaped you. Put your finger around the craving passions you would sacrifice stability for. Plan to live for a larger purpose. Analyze an irrational hatred of yours. Hell, reach into the capacities of those once-blossoming relationships now turned sour. Allow yourself to go there. You just might alleviate some life baggage and clear out the complexity of your own feelings. Think profoundly, my friend, think. That porcelain pony isn’t going anywhere.