We know fire burns, yet we extend our fingers reaching for the flames.

We know something is bad for us, or for the things we care about, or we know some things may be beneficial. Despite this, we fail to act on such notions. Why do we ignore the things we believe?

On one side, we have what we presume to know; on the other, there is its understanding. To make something meaningful out of what we have, we will use repetition to close the gap created by inexperience, ambiguity, or wear.

The problem with repetition

Repeating could be dull.

I’m not a fan of rereading a story, re-watching a series, or watching a movie.

When we first encounter a plot, everything is possible; The hero could turn out to be corrupt, the insignificant side character the puppeteer pulling the main narrative from the shadows, the dead may not be so, every detail could be a tiny clue left by the creator for what is coming.

As a result, we don’t put down the book; we play the next chapter.

However, once the story comes to an end, characters and events are fixed; they can’t take a different path.

The magic seems lost.

A part of us

Regardless of this impression, repetition is inevitable if we want to make something part of us.

In writing, we can recognize the elegance with which a message arrives, its clarity, how clever the word arrangement is, and how cunning it is to make readers discover by themselves what you unobtrusively presented as a writer.

Identifying those accomplishments is a start.

However, evoking them requires practice, trial and error, it requires that we find what works and what does not, and do the thing over and over again.

We are drawing a line between knowing and understanding.

Use it, or lose it

We must make something out of what we have; a skill, a yearning, or some other resource.

Otherwise, like a plant that has not been watered, it will lose strength and wither.

Food goes stale and blades dull,

minds stagnate,

skills rust,

ideas dim.

What good would they do if never used?

What good would they do if, when needed, they are unfit?

Practicing enables us to stay fresh, sharp, and active. Employing what we have opens our eyes to context, proportions, and intricate details. When faced with a challenge, we can recognize patterns and draw solutions from our own resources.

Same story, different eyes

Anything would be dull for the wrong eyes; anything has beauty in the right ones.

The story will not change its words nor its denouement. Yet, its magic remains, for that is not the same story nor we the same man.

The words that once sounded sweet turn sour, knowing betrayal lies behind them. The characters’ tragedy and despair magnify their impending victory. The line between black and white, right and wrong, good and bad, is a lot harder to tell apart.

Our familiarity with the story enables us to deepen our understanding of its world and forge stronger bonds with its characters and ideas.

Use what you have

We don’t ignore what we know; it simply is rust, too green, or clouded by circumstances.

To combat this, we must put to use whatever we have. That way, it will become part of us. We have to do this not only once, but reiterate on the same activity, skill, lesson, or concept.

There is beauty in the cycle of forgetting and rediscovering. We forget, even if it is simple, sometimes because of it. Then, we come across a curious sensation; something that is not new, but not entirely familiar.

Make something out of what you have, again and again, and enjoy the small bits you rediscover.