Unthink outside the box

Posted by random olio

I am not getting old, or maybe I am. This book has reminded me to be a child again. As always I have been reading like crazy. I just finished “Unthink: Rediscover Your Creative Genius” by Erik Wahl. A book that has opened my ideas to how much and how often we try to fill in the blank, find the easy answer, and not use our brains. Early on in his book he explains this in such a succinct way:

“The short story goes like this: Our education taught us to memorize the predetermined answer or study the predetermined method in order to deliver the predetermined solution. There was nearly always one right way to one right answer, and an A+ job meant finding and then following that path repeatedly. There was rarely if ever room for what we so fondly call ‘thinking outside the box.’ You and I were rewarded for—often literally—making a check mark inside the right box. We were taught to be art critics but not artists. To think but not to unthink.” Page 17

How true is that? We were taught to score well on the SATs, to do well on standardized testing for our states and counties, because that is what determined if we were learning in school and if our teachers were doing a good job. Did it teach us how to think creatively? Did it teach us to solve problems? No, it taught us to fill out the correct answer on the scantron test and accurately use our #2 pencil in the oval, being sure not to color outside the lines. So how did we learn how to think outside the box?

I cannot remember when I started to think differently. At a certain point I think it happened in college when I got so sick of the status quo. A part of it had to do with being a woman and yet not treated fairly as a woman. It made me think I am going to do better than a man can do, I am going to learn what I can so that I can never be in a situation where I get stuck or cannot do something I cannot handle. I think it also was being so clear that I do not want to live how I grew up, that I wanted a better life. That desire and drive taught me that I do not want to live inside the right box. At a certain point we end up stuck in our ways, or our routine causes us to not take risks or live life differently. Which is why I love this quote that Wahl shares from Anais Nin:

“Older people fall into rigid patterns. Curiosity, risk, exploration are forgotten by them. You have not yet discovered that you have a lot to give, and that the more you give the more riches you will find in yourself. It amazed me that you felt that each time you write a story you gave away one of your dreams and you felt the poorer for it. But then you have not thought that this dream is planted in others, others begin to live it too, it is shared, it is the beginning of friendship and love…You must not fear, hold back, count or be a miser with your thoughts and feelings.” –Anais Nin page 183

Aw man does that resonate with me. “…the more you give the more riches you will find in yourself.” We cannot give when we check the right boxes, when we fill out the scantron test. We give when we live outside of ourselves, and when we are raw, authentic, and real. Stop caring about the A+, and think like an artist…outside the box.

“Your lists keep us together.”

Posted by random olio

Over the weekend we are driving into Portland for some brunch, errands, and my favorite–an artisan craft fair. While multi-tasking on my iPhone I say something about adding something to our list for the day, and then mumble: “you must love my lists” (noted in a sarcastic tone). His response: “Your lists keep us together.”

I will remind you (in case you are not aware). Chris is a relatively quiet guy. He does not talk if he does not have anything to say, and often I have to pry his thoughts out of him. So when I got this long response, I quickly grabbed a pen and pad of paper from the glove box (because quite frankly I am old school and I cannot type that fast on my iPhone).

The rest of the conversations goes like this…quotes are Chris’ words:

“There are 2.5 things we fight about – whenever we fight – which is rare:

My lack of follow through or lack of communication.

Your hunger tantrums – aka when you are “hangry.”

#3 is really 2.5, as it only gets really 1/2 a point in my mind… When you comment on my driving.

Your lists are what keep us together. It keeps us on the same page. So keep adding items to your lists, keep tracking as you do.”

Not only was that a succinct quote from my hubby, it was also very profound. He is right. We rarely fight and it usually is over something that was not communicated, or miscommunicated, or my biggest pet peeve of all is lack of follow through. I am not going to comment on #2.5 because as a passenger I reserve the right to share my concern when I have one. You might be thinking, “How is it possible that you only have 2.5 things you generally fight about?” I have to agree with him that is the complete list. #1 is for him, #2 is for me, and like I said we’ll just ignore #2.5.

First day of…

Posted by random olio

The first day of school. It always had a degree of dread and a degree of excitement. What was my teacher going to be like? What would it be like to see and reconnect with different friends? How had people changed over the summer? How would we all fit together in this new year and new adventure?

The first day of school is very much like the first day of a new job. You may have no idea what your world is going to be like. While the job might be similar to your last role, the people, the leadership, and the team dynamics can make your day-to-day light years different. It is good for us to have these moments of change, newness and growth. That does not mean, however, that it is easy or that being the newbie comes naturally to any of us.

Just like the first day of school is like the first day of a new job, the bullying and politics that happen in school happen in the professional world. Individuals have agendas, sometimes you get picked first and sometimes you get picked last. There is competition, and sometimes that means that those you thought had your back, really do not. The only difference between school and a job, is being a kid and being an adult. Somehow we are all learning more about ourselves. What we are willing to stand up for and what makes us keep our mouth shut.

Since the school year is about to start, what are you going to do differently? Just because you might be in the same job for the last year or years does not mean you have to be stuck in a rut. Think of August as your new year. Who are you going to befriend or be less afraid of? Who are you going to stand up to? Get out your Trapper Keeper and start doodling. Come up with three ways you are going to change. Mine are:

_Listen more, talk less

_Appreciate more

_Slow down

What will yours be? Trapper Keeper, iPad, or old-school typewriter… make a note and decide: What are you going to stand for?

Puppy Love

Posted by random olio

I used to be scared shitless of our dog, Ginger. I was young, and our German Shepherd was much larger than me and she would often jump up on me, was way taller, and well most of the time knocked me over. When I would leave my room in the morning I would yell out: “Is Ginger outside?” My family sometimes supported my fears and would say yes, and other times they would mess with me and think I was a complete baby, and tell me she was outside, only to be lovingly mauled by her. Ugh. How my family frustrated me. Rather than work with me on my fear, they teased me.

Somehow over time, and maybe just with growing taller, and more mature I got over my fear of Ginger. She was eventually hit by a car while delivering newspapers with my brother. We had many more dogs over the years. Some that tore up our house because they were afraid of thunderstorms, or jumped fences, and some chewed their own fur off. I never feared our large dogs after Ginger. We never had a “normal” dog. My father always brought home dogs that had been abused (thus their strange behaviors).

Fast forward to Chris and my time dating. He had a massive Great Dane, who had also been abused before Chris rescued her. While my dad and brother were great with our dogs, I never saw a connection between a dog and man before Chris and Belle. So when I saw this dog + baby video, I immediately showed him. His response: “That is ridiculous.” He could not stop laughing and smiling.

The baby continues to move closer and snuggle with the dog… What is not to ooh and ahh over?

Take me downstairs

Posted by random olio

She was my mom’s roommate at a nursing home. I loathed visiting my mom. Old ladies that either barely fit into their wheelchairs, or exploded out of them would follow me down the hallway. They would slide along moving at a snail pace, sliding their feet along as their means to get from one place to the next. It was as though I had the scent of youth and when I would come in the door they know and follow. Some of them were completely normal, and some were not quite right.

There were days I would see a group of random old ladies in my mom’s room. One would be facing the corner talking to herself, another would be sitting there staring at my mom not talking, and another would have fallen asleep mid entrance to her room. I would look at my mom and she would roll her eyes. Our unspoken angst at the situation neither of us had any control over.

Back to the roommate. She would talk in her sleep, and talk while awake. She would say things like: “Take me home.” Or “Take me downstairs.” Mind you the nursing home was one level. At first it all made me laugh, and then it just made me sad. The roommate did not have daily visitors, and when I would try to talk to her it made her cranky, and she would talk even more, in lines of gibberish that made no sense. My mom was in a nursing home because the hospital no longer had space and she needed extra care. I often wonder what it was like for her to live among those that were her mother’s age and older. She had her meals with them, did physical therapy, and activities with them. Did it drive her crazy? It was as though I watched her age during her stay at that nursing home.

I do not know what happened to her roommate, but my mom got better enough for us to move into a small apartment and in-home nurses would come and help her each day (in addition to what my sister and I would do to care for her). Thank God. I am not sure how much longer I could have watched the gaggle of old ladies congregate in my mom’s room. I might start to speak in their language. “Take me to…”