Matchstick Man pondered a great many things like, for example, his ponderings about the moon which you know…well, they didn’t turn out too well. But anyway, sometimes he wondered if it would be a good idea to talk to someone about his thoughts. After all, all the great thinkers have, at some time, spoken their great thoughts out loud, otherwise no one would know about them. Matchstick Man wasn’t sure that he was a great thinker, but you never know until you try. It sounded like a mission, and if it wasn’t Matchstick Man would make it into one.
Now, Matchstick Man knew that with every mission you needed a clear objective; without it you might as well be a twig floating downstream. So he thought about it and decided that for this mission he needed two things:
“This way.” she said with an enigmatic smile, and walked in the direction of the children’s section. Matchstick Man was confused until she placed in his hands a book called ‘Oh the thinks you can think’ by Dr Seuss. ‘Brilliant’ he thought, and opened it up.
"Thank you so much
but I really don’t think
it’s this book I need;
I wonder if you
could help me to find
a book by a thinker
all a-bout the mind”
Matchstick Man read and read. Some of the things he read didn’t make much sense, but he read them anyway, hoping, perhaps, that the words would somehow put themselves together in the right order in his mind and he would understand them. He read until it became dark. Miss Tree appeared behind him, a shadowed, disturbing presence. “It’s time.” she said, enigmatically.
Matchstick Man had a difficult night’s sleep. He tossed and turned, thoughts, ideas burning through his mind. Dreams of people talking backwards in red rooms, a dancing dwarf, a giant leaning down, grasping ‘it’s happening again…it’s happening again’. Matchstick Man jerked awake. He rubbed his head. No more watching
2. Someone to share it with
He thought it might be a good idea to start with Professor Pipette. He also thought that it was a good job it was morning and he was wide awake, so he might have a chance of understanding Professor Pipette. After about 10 minutes or so he realised how wrong he was. Professor Pipette, having duly considered the question, launched into an hour long exploration of the subject, without coming to any firm conclusions. Now Matchstick Man respected Professor Pipette, he really did, but the fact of the matter is that these scientists, well, they’re made differently. They talk about precision, facts, empirical measurement, proof and those kinds of things. Matchstick Man found it all quite overwhelming.
“Far out Man!” Pogo Stick said “So, what’s the question?” Matchstick Man told him. Pogo Stick sat down by the roadside “Hmm,” he said “hmm.”
Matchstick Man felt dejected. He’d been thinking great thoughts for two days now yet still it hadn’t got him anywhere. Feeling a little sad he did the thing he always did when feeling a little sad. He went to see his Mum.
Matchstick Man was surprised. He’d always thought that Matchstick Mum had thought his ponderings a little bit silly but here she was saying she wanted to know them. Suddenly he felt better, and perhaps a little bit special. It gave him a warm feeling inside, more than the answer to any question, or any great thought ever had.