Blink

After some moving mishaps, I recently found myself book-less and browsing a friend's shelves for something to tide me over until my boxes arrived. I stumbled across Malcolm Gladwell's Blink, and while I know a number of people consider him to be a hack, I thought the book was an interesting examination into the decision-making process of individuals and institutions. Basically, Gladwell argues that there are situations where it makes sense to follow your first instinct over careful, reasoned analysis... but not always. Which left me in a bit of a tizzy: how am I supposed to know when to make weighted average spreadsheets and when to just follow my gut?!? ;)

But, tucked in the Afterword is the following explanation:

One of the questions that I've been asked over and over again since Blink came out is, When should we trust our instincts, and when should we consciously think things through? Well, here is a partial answer. On straightforward choices, deliberate analysis is the best. When questions of analysis and personal choice start to get complicated -- when we have to juggle many variables -- then our unconscious thought process may be superior... It seems as if [Sigmund Freud] agreed: "When making a decision of minor importance, I have always found it advantageous to consider all the pros and cons. In vital matters, however, such as the choice of a mate or profession, the decision should come from the unconscious, from somewhere within ourselves. In important decisions of personal life, we should be governed, I think, by the deep inner needs of our nature."

Makes sense to me!

Well, there's some comfort in that

Whenever I think about all of the ways that I manage to constantly make mistakes, I'm reminded of this passage from Anne of Green Gables. The snippet is a dialogue between eleven-year-old Anne, an orphan with a penchant for getting into trouble, and Marilla, the woman who adopts her:

"Marilla, isn't it nice to think that to-morrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"

"I'll warrant you'll make plenty in it," said Marilla. "I never saw your beat for making mistakes, Anne."

"Yes and well I know it," admitted Anne mournfully. "But have you noticed one encouraging thing about me, Marilla? I never make the same mistake twice."

"I don't know as that's much benefit when you're always making new ones."

"Oh, don't you see, Marilla? There must be a limit to the mistakes one person can make, and when I get to the end of them, then I'll be through with them. That's a very comforting thought."

The Winter's Tale

Forget Twilight; when it comes to romance, Shakespeare makes the ladies swoon:

When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o’ the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that.

- The Winter's Tale, Act iv. Sc. 4.

For the Twi-hards...

Despite the fact that I'm sure I'm opening myself up to mockery with this one, this is for my friends obsessed with Twilight.*

"It continued like that for the rest of the day. While he walked me to English, when he met me after Spanish, all through the lunch hour, he questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my existence. Movies I'd liked and hated, the few places I'd been and the many places I wanted to go, and books -- endlessly books.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked so much. More often than not, I felt self-conscious, certain I must be boring him. But the absolute absorption of his face, and his never-endeing stream of questions, compelled me to continue. Mostly his questions were easy, only a very few triggering my easy blushes. But when I did flush, it brought on a whole new round of questions."

* I will not name names, but you know who you are. (*ahem* Bubbles, Linda *ahem*)

This getting older business

... never seems to get easier. Questions abound as my head/heart grapples with questions about my life direction, career path, final destination. Why can't someone just tell me what to do with my life?

Simply Put

... for the new you seek in the not new and for the not new you seek in the new.

To travel, to read

Rereading The Namesake for Mother's Day, and this passage struck a nerve. A discussion, on the value of travel. The author stages Ghosh and Ashoke as having competing viewpoints, whereas I think they're complementary?

Ghosh shook his head. "You are still young. Free," he said, spreading his hands apart for emphasis. "Do yourself a favor. Before it's too late, without thinking too much about it first, pack a pillow and a blanket and see as much of the world as you can. You will not regret it. One day it will be too late."

"My grandfather always says that's what books are for," Ashoke said, using the opportunity to open the volume in his hands. "To travel without moving an inch."