Thursday, March 26, 2009

Mental Pushups.

I realized the downfall of not being in school anymore: My brain seems to be progressively coming at a halt. I try to indulge in regular reading, but my ability to just focus on text seems weak. My mind used to be sharper, both in absorbing teachings and creating answers, but now it is primarily occupied with simple decisions or my chaotic scheduling of where to go next.

I hesitate to think if it's my inability to sit still that is hindering my brain from performing at a higher efficiency. The last time I did a puzzle was a month ago, attempting to teach a coworker how to play sudoku. This was the most engaging activity I've done in a while because not only did I need to recall my own understanding of the numbers game, but describe it step by step so that someone else could understand. I used to read the math lessons before hand for fun. It gave me a cheap thrill to be able to know what the teacher was talking about before anyone else. At the same time, I would cut out any math questions that I rendered too easy to perform. It was arrogant, it was lazy, and at the same time it was engaging; If I was put on a spot about a math question, 95% of the time I could answer.

Fast forward to today, it took me a minute to remember how to carry a one during a subtraction question. I don't think the brain degrades quite as much as we forget to engage it into daily excercise.

I have a sick confession. Sometimes I read a book quickly primarily to say that I've read that book. It's an intangible collection; I love checklists. As I commit this sin, I don't absorb quite as much of it as I would like to. School had it right by reading only a chapter or two at a time, and then quiz you on it. It requires you to deepen your memory of the book, to hold it to heart, to talk about the effects it may have on you, the reader. It builds meaning. A friend of mine used to make fun of symbolism. He felt it was the teachers way of trying to create something that wasn't there.

The beauty of books are that they are the only form of art that we cannot absentmindedly enjoy. Movies, music, art... These are beautiful mediums, that experts and enthusiasts could talk about for hours, but still are capable of looking at it and forgetting, turning your brain off to watch another Vin Deisel movie or bop your head to the latest Lady Gaga hit. A literary work of art demands your attention, demands you to visualize for yourself, given the criteria the author provides, what the protagonists looks like as he walks down a deserted street. Books require you to look within yourself and identify with first person narrative. It's an emotional journey and that's where aspects such as symbolism are quintessential to an english classroom. They engage the student to find meaning or at least create it. Own it.

Gym class would do wonders for me now too come to think of it...

Never when I was a student did an adult explain to me why I would miss school. I was warned that I would, but I didn't believe it then. Any high school attendee who would read this, probably wouldn't believe it, but there is luxury in spending so many hours a week simply working on your mind, engaging in topical conversation beyond the weather, the latest movie or your line of work.

Maybe piecing a puzzle over a matecinno latte will be of some assistance...