Brain Lube
Dan Kieran, a local friend and author among other things wrote this great piece about taking a moment before attempting to create, to loosen up the mind, to tap into a sense of wonder and inspiration.
The trouble with showing up with an unwieldy to-do list now, as we try to be many things just to survive, is that we have to firefight to not get overwhelmed. So, reflection, immersion, play, and opening up to possibilities become the disposable rituals we can shed to ensure we remain productive.
I’ve been trying to follow Dan’s lead. He spoke of picking up a book and reading a few pages to enter a different headspace, opening that little door to flow and forward motion. But like many times before, the kids serve up a pure lesson.
One is on the kitchen table drawing Paw Patrol’s Marshall, the other up at the kitchen island drawing Miles Morales’ Spider-Man. They are silent, deep in flow states as my wife and I buzz around carrying out hundreds of tiny tasks to get them ready, everyone fed, and all of us out of the door on time.
TV is not an option on weekday mornings. Some days the huff and puff and ask us what they should do and we point to the wealth of puzzles, games, pens, paper, books, and toys on the shelves and say, ‘I don’t know, whatever you want.’ Eventually after admitting defeat, they’ll choose something and commit.
I quietly watch with a smile on my face, whether it’s Lego, My First Engineer set, art, or a board game because that little door opens. Sometimes they play together, other times alone, but the difference in the way they show up at school, ready to absorb the sensory experience, is stark to the odd weekend day when they are allowed an episode or two of whatever TV show they’re into. On those days it takes a little longer to get them out of their sluggish groaning. That’s fine – they’re human and it’s the weekend – but I apply this to my own creative upkeep. If I arrive and lunge straight for a screen or a pen and paper, I’m undermining my brain’s need for immersion and attunement.
The days that start with a page or two of a book that inspires or a good, deep chat on the dog walk tend to be the ones on which I find flow, and make better decisions.
This is no revelation or profound piece of wisdom. It’s common sense and bloody obvious, but the screens have been woven into every aspect of our being, that we don’t question the nature of their presence enough. As far as the kids go, whatever your point of view, go read The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt.