Found this delight over on QuoteSnack.com ~ from Diane Ackerman's, An Alchemy of the Mind:
Imagine the brain, that shiny mound of being, that mouse-gray parliament of cells, that dream factory, that petite tyrant inside a ball of bone, that huddle of neurons calling all the plays, that little everywhere, that fickle pleasuredome, that wrinkled wardrobe of selves stuffed into the skull like too many clothes into a gym bag…
We take for granted the ridiculous-sounding yet undeniable fact that each person carries around atop the body a complete universe in which trillions of sensations, thoughts, and desires stream. They mix privately, silently, while agitating on many levels, some of which we’re not aware of, thank heavens.
If we needed to remember how to work the bellows of the lungs or the writhing python of digestion, we’d be swamped by formed and forming memories, and there’d be no time left for buying cute socks.
My brain likes cute socks. But it also likes kisses. And asparagus. And watching boat-tailed grackles. And biking. And drinking Japanese green tea in a rose garden.
There’s the nub of it – the brain is personality’s whereabouts. It’s also a stern warden, and, at times, a self-tormentor. It’s where catchy tunes snag, and cravings keep tugging. Shaped a little like a loaf of French country bread, our brain is a crowded chemistry lab, bustling with nonstop neuroal conversations. I
t’s also like an impersonal landscape where minute bolts of lightening prowl and strike. A hall of mirrors, it can contemplate existentialism, the delicate hooves of a goat, and its own birth and death in a manner of seconds.
It’s blunt as a skunk, and a real gossip hound, but also voluptuous, clever, playful, and forgiving.
Wow! Turns out that I am someone who thrives on blocking out my minutes & interests. Who knew?
Sheez - here, was always a true believer as myself as an "inspired winger." That's how master teacher Yorvar Synnestvedt described me waaay back in my long ago days as a middle school educator. It was certainly the image I held of myself.
Plans were for schmucks, thinking ahead for boring closet bureaucrats.
Those were the messages I processed in my early years & held as gospel for decades, even when my true self was screaming into my inner ears that structure provide a framework for freedom, for liberating my best efforts.
Reality - I now look forward with glee to the time that I know, "This is Thursday - this morning I will pace myself through my a.m. ritual, get a couple hours in writing, see one or two clients* in the afternoon and/or evening, do (fill in the blank) yard- and/or house-work, spend 30 minutes unstructured time online, enjoy an hour with John watching something online or part of a dvd, get to bed at a decent hour & up (even in the depths of cold, dark winter) again tomorrow at my preferred wake-up time of between 5:00 & 5:15 a.m."
Back in my days at Bryn Athyn Elementary School, then in the corporate world & in my early years at Delaware Valley High School, there were plenty of times that I was fairly or even spectacularly successful - but they came about in spite of my process, not as an anticipated outcome. Was I always actually this way, this think-ahead blocks-of-time, think-of-moments-rather-than-minutes person ~OR~ did this self evolve as I aged & have fewer moments at my disposal? Took me until this very moment to realize that my first experience of the liberating quality of blocking moments & activities happened in my last year at DVHS (a notoriously lax school for at-risk students, where my seat-of-the-pants approach served me well for my first years, getting familiar with the kids & courses), where I brought crowning success & closure to my teaching career because of finally fully utilizing the charming custom of lesson plans & study guides. What a concept!
Over seven years since my last class at DVHS, the years are ticking by. And I mean to make them count. Over the past five years, I've discovered - only because it was pointed out to me - that I'm rather innovative. For years, have adopted "Saved all my best lines for my 3rd act." Well, here I be, with the 3rd act curtain up & myself center stage. Let's make the most of it!
It helps that I've discovered that, along with being innovative, I am significantly more likely to do things when I know their why. Take a walk around the block soon after I wake up is not likely to find me pulling on my socks & walking shoes; "get your heart rate up early in the a.m." IS. "Take a break every 30 minutes" from your writing routine hasn't lit my fire but knowing that prolonged sitting is as deadly as chain smoking is good reason to get up & get OUT.
Turns out there's a lot of good to be had out of being a BLOCK HEAD, using blocks of time & activities as stepping stones to a brilliant tomorrow & a wildly fabulous future. It is seriously cool to be 65 years old, getting to know a true self really well, partnering with her, guided by the sure knowledge that plans are treasure maps & thinking ahead is a hallmark of chronic accomplishment!
