Making Sense of Chaos
As I mentioned in an earlier
post, a post last year, from 2017:
2017 was the pits. Let’s hope 2018 holds more for you, me, all of us.
2017 was the pits. Let’s hope 2018 holds more for you, me, all of us.
Aside from the fact that 2017
was the pits, there’s another interesting fact: I had a very productive,
successful writing year with many things to celebrate. It just didn’t feel that
way. From that earlier post:
** Not only a book contract
for a novel I’ve been trying to sell forever, but 13 acceptances of “Other
Writing” plus an eBook, Flash Memoir: Writing Prompts to Get You Flashing.
Whew!
It simply doesn’t make sense
when I think of how chaotic and frustrated I felt. But as I also mentioned in
an earlier post, a post from last year, from 2017, podcasts got me through the
year. From the podcast, Hidden Brain, I learned that chaos can actually be good
for our creative process. Messy inspiration.
In
Praise Of Mess: Why Disorder May Be Good For Us, November 29, 2016. I
realize this podcast was pre-Trump. How could the moderator know that disorder
would extend to all facets of government. That a tsunami of Trump was about to
roll over us. No one. No one predicted his election.
Shankar Vedantam interviewed
Tim Hartford, author of Messy:
How to Be Creative and Resilient in a Tidy-Minded World. They talked about
several measured scenarios where subjects experienced increased productivity in
the midst of disorder. In the midst of messy there is also a sense of liberation.
Maybe it’s about letting go. One scenario had a boss come in and re-arrange a
workers work space, remove personal affects. Not only did productivity decrease,
but on the same scale work place satisfaction. People are happier working even
in the midst of chaos as long as they feel safe.
Sort of like studies
conducted on children in wartime. The ones evacuated and separated from family
felt more stress and fear than those who remained with their family in war
zones.
In the podcast Tim Hartford
cites a live performance by jazz improvisario Keith Jarrett. His Köln concert,
which by all measures should have been a historic failure turned into one of
his most listened-to albums. The only reason he recorded it according to
Hartford was because he wanted later to show how not to do a concert. You see it was organized by a young 17-year
old German woman and she was absolutely embarrassed—the piano Keith had
requested was somehow replaced by an out-of-tune second-rate broken-down baby
grand found backstage.
A snafu on a seismic scale.
It’s like NASA trying to get Apollo 13 back to Earth using an old manual, socks,
and rubberbands. Circumstances demanded action, there was pressure, deadlines,
or else catastrophe. Or if not catastrophe, people might laugh at you. This
enough is impetus to attempt the impossible. So Keith Jarrett proceeded, even
though he knew it would be awful.
And what happened . . . was
magical.
Anyway, this is about
perception. I didn’t think 2017 felt great. I didn’t think what I was working
on was that great. The work was hard and confounding. In the end though I was
able to create through chaos.
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