Brains Change

A friend from Seattle stopped by Saturday (hey, Karen!). Our chat made me realize just how much my brain has changed since June, when I quit my job and moved to Olympia to get ready for school. Nothing against working, but I'm beginning to believe that being in not-quite-the-right-job made me a little fuzzy. I wasn't learning new information on a daily or hourly basis in the last several jobs, and much of the intellectual stimulation was in the way of irritation, rather than discovery.

Being back in school after all this time makes me feel a little more awake. New information presented in new language keeps showing up every day, and my brain is running twice as fast as ever before to keep up. So far, this is pretty good.

(English majors, please note: the preceding paragraph is brought to you by "sandwiching," a concept that was breezily brought up in passing in ENG 203 last week.)

Another change is showing up in my spoken vocabulary: I no longer edit what I'm saying to make sure people understand me. If the right word, no matter how long, shows up in my brain during a conversation, I no longer need to mentally dig up synonyms. One of my classmates mentioned how liberating it is for her to be out of high school and in an environment where either everyone knows all the words, or knows how to get definitions out of online or paper dictionaries.

Some things about my brain have not and will not change, of course. I still have dyslexia, and the math gene simply is nowhere in my genome. Nonetheless, I'm finding new ways around these problems, to reinforce the techniques I've used over the years, so these handicaps don't have as much of a chance to hold me back.

Whatever is holding you back from doing what you really want to do, try ignoring it for a while. Imagine doing what you really want to do, step by step. If you're looking at individual steps, your handicaps may not be stumbling blocks after all, and the process of changing may make those handicaps much smaller.

At least, that's what my brain thinks.

Side Effects May Include . . .

My retention rate for ethical syllogisms and their implications has not improved. I can tell a hawk from a handsaw, but Plato's finer distinctions are occult and Aristotle's criticisms of his mentor make my head spin, although at a slightly slower rate than last week.

All this hard mental work in Ethics and Algebra is having an unexpected effect. Throughout my entire journalism career, I was dreadful at remembering names and linking them with faces. During the '80s, I could make my self hyperventilate on demand by thinking about attending a city council meeting where all the nameplates had been left off the desks, or even worse, rearranged. Now, although I can't remember the formula for computing annual percentage rates or calculating the maximum amount for a home loan, I suddenly have the ability to remember the names of people I meet briefly.

Last weekend, I was in the men's department at a store in Bellevue. The clerk's name is Ray. His colleague in Accessories on the main floor is named Nicole.

So, why are these names occupying my mental furniture, that should be taken up by really old guys in togas? Maybe my brain is showing its appreciation for the unaccustomed exercise.

Or it could be that since I have bigger ideas to worry about, my brain now feels it can pay attention to things that don't make me as anxious as Algebra does.

Perhaps once I get past the math midterm exam, I'll go right back to forgetting names and misplacing the Facebook in my brain again. What do you think?

600 Words Away from Nirvana

This evening I stood in the backyard, watching the crows on their evening commute. They flew over the house in waves, groups of yelling, soaring, swooping black feathered figures. They were heading northwest to their night time roost, but getting as much out of the trip home as they could.

I was watching them with as empty a mond as anyone could ever have. The more information I try to cram into my little brain, the emptier it seems. While some popular gurus may think being able to empty the mind is a desirable goal, I can't agree. I want my mind to retain at least some of what I'm trying to learn.

For about four hours today, I was caught up on the reading for Ethics. I was almost dizzy with self-congratulation. Of course, during our writing exercise, it became clear that I had retained exactly none of the ideas. Nonetheless, for a little while my ego was soothed by the idea that I had finished the reading, and that I understood it while I was reading it.

After dinner, I need to finish writing a 600 word paper on Marlowe's Dr. Faustus. Then it needs to be edited, corrected and re-written. I've scheduled another 8 hours of gloating over my accomplishment for later this evening, unless I fall asleep instead.