May 14, 2007 22:40
I've been reading this book about...I guess its about a different way of thinking, an innovative way. It talks about the associative barriers people have, and how once broken, you're able to think about things - problems or objects or whatever - in a new way because you aren't carrying the old associations anymore. Sort of like that psychology experiment where you are given a match box with some matches, a candle and some tacks, and you have to make a candle holder on the wall with everything. and the trick is that you have to melt the wax and then use the empty matchstick box or something. I forget exactly. A better example: two strings are attached to the ceiling and you have to tie them together. You have a wrench and a hammer and something else. You think you can just tie the strings together by hand but when you hold one and reach for the other, the first slips out of your hand. Solution: use the wrench as a pendulum and swing one string to the other so you can tie them together. Point: You have to use the wrench in a capacity that you don't normally associate it with. Read: You have to break your associative barrier. Emma: she likes colons (The bodily kind) (and parentheses).
And I think, yeah, this is a good idea, but how do you go about breaking barriers? Some post its are in front of me right now. Are they a barrier? Post its may be considered the break themselves. Like paper is not sticky, glue is sticky. And then someone put the two together and broke the non-sticky paper barrier. But do post-its carry some barrier that says paper is expendable and for one-time use only, or that you must write things down because people are inherently forgetful, or that it is better to write things in straight lines which is why they are lined now? I sort of feel like Simba going out and looking for trouble, you know? This book has me questioning the validity of colorful pieces of paper.
It gives a tip: reverse your assumption. This has had colorful (heh) results, too. They give the example of "Restaurants serve food" and then say to reverse it so that your assumption sis that restaurants do NOT serve food. Then they say to make this new assumption worthwhile. Like, so restaurants do not serve food, but they provide a fun atmosphere with music and serve alcohol - Ta da - you invented a bar. Or whatever. So I was driving down the road thinking like this. Sometimes I didn't ever get to the "make the new assumption worthwhile" part. I would just think "That is not a tree." "I am not riding in the car." "He is not my father." Makes me think about writing a children's book.
I played with some babies today. No barriers. Okay - maybe being shy. But that's pretty easy to overcome. And even if you don't know the parents, you can still connect with the baby.
(Right now there are people trying to get on a train in the subway. And they're running and wishing their bags were a little lighter. And checking the maps to see which one. And thinking, "Isn't this exciting? But I'm glad I'm only doing this today." Sometimes that's me. But it happens everyday, right? And people don't stop when you leave. And they really speak Chinese.)
So what creates barriers in the first place? Ignorace? Assumption? I think a combination. Magic. I guess it's a natural inclination to protect what you have. Like fencing your yard. Or clothing yourself. You obtain knowledge and then protect it by solidifying it as a (absolute) truth. Which makes it hard to modify. So neophytes - be anti-fence. and anti-cloth. and anti-truth.
And when we have a viking play instead of your precious reflections - LAUGH, YOU SILLY ANGRY PEOPLE.
(What are we doing here, anyway? If it's all blowing up soon, why change lanes and total the car?)
Sometimes I think I should say things. Goodness that's a funny statement. Sometimes I think I should say things. Sometimes I think I should say things. Sometimes I think I should say things. But it's just so goddamn hard when everything is fragile, and offendable, and new. And everyone has feelings, and feelers, and cares about you. And then They say things first. Say fix my breaks, and feed my fakes, and oh, oh! Tell me what to do!