Things that get in the way

It's been a pretty stressful week one way and  another.

Work's been busy, home's always busy - just getting everything done that needs to be done. Making ends meet is a constant counterpoint to whatever else is going on in my life at any given time.   I may or may not be coming down with something - and to top it all off, I spent yesterday taking my son to the hospital for emergency surgery on his hand.

In the midst of all this, I'm trying to find enough spare time (and enough spare synapses) to process - and document - the thinking I'm doing about things educational.

One of the things that's becoming obvious is that it's incredibly difficult to assimilate anything new when you're already stressed. Hardly a unique or original observation, but one that's been reinforced again recently.

Timing is as important as time.

A number of years ago now I started learning Te Reo Maori. I really enjoyed it, and I have made several attempts since then to refresh and improve my ability to speak and understand it. So far I haven't got very far.  I'm not sure if the reasons I can identify are genuine reasons or just rationalisations. I feel guilty, frustrated and resigned about it by turns. But the bottom line is, there's more I want to do than there are hours (or kilojoules) available to do them all, and much as I want to do it, the timing just hasn't been right  yet. Meaning it hasn't got to the top of my priority list yet. 

One of the lessons I've absorbed on my way through life (social conditioning) is that this really means I lack the dedication, the genuine desire to learn Te Reo, and the intellectual honesty to admit those failings. In other words, there must be someone at fault, and it must be me. However much my adult rational self may know that putting food on the table for my kids, and holding down a job, being available to my friends and family when they need my support ...you know, reality... are legitimate priorities, part of me is equally sure that the only reason for not doing something is lack of trying hard enough.

I suspect we are still teaching our kids those same unhelpful lessons.

The reality is that life does get in the way sometimes, and we do have to prioritise what we do. Sometimes all the pieces fall into place, and we can make huge strides. Not only is learning not linear, but it's not constant either. It happens in fits & starts (the 'clumpy universe' again). So why do we insist on designing learning environments and curricula for our children that behave as if they are? 

Conference notes: transitions

Jennifer Garvey-Berger on change / transitions

• Rilke quote - cf transformative learning 

• linear change - "how our brains understand change" - thats why we find change hard, don't like it... cf visual-spatial: non-linear, not same issues with change
• spontaneous orders instead of linear progressions  (eg curriculum)  

• ball in trough diagram - change by evolution (go over) or revolution (through)?

• fear of loss - what is it that you fear to lose?
• what will become of it when you change? 

• The neutral zone - have let go of one reality but not yet embraced the next
• [??being PRESENT (Senge)  is the key to the neutral zone?? / ??Theory U??]

•  new beginnings are like babies - need nurturing
• will falter sometimes, don't  start fully formed
  

Achieving mastery

I've spent a bit of time over the past week or so mending holes in the wooden deck outside my house. As I write this, my son & a family friend are out there finishing off.

They're much better at it than I am. For one thing I, being a woman of a certain age, have had no formal instruction in which side of a saw is the sharp side, how to hold a hammer, or how to select the appropriate kind of nails for a job.  I've picked up a bit here and there - helping my dad or my husband, asking questions, watching home improvement shows, or just asking the blokes at the hardware store.

As a result I have my own somewhat idiosyncratic way of doing things. For one thing, I'd much rather spend 30 minutes chiselling off a centimetre of wood to fit a wide plank into a narrow gap than spend 20 minutes setting up a circular saw to do the job. In fact I discovered this weekend that I'd rather chisel it off than use a handsaw to do it too. I found myself reflecting on that as I banged away at the chisel yesterday, because it seemed a bit perverse to be honest. It's less efficient, it doesn't do nearly as neat a job,  and it's got to be at  least as much effort.

I realised though that what the hammer & chisel give me that the circular saw doesn't is a sense of mastery. I am confident that I know how to use the hammer & chisel to achieve what I want to do, and that means the effort I put into it feels like a worthwhile investment - I have confidence that the job will be done - adequately, if not elegantly.

The circular saw on the other hand is a whole different story. I have used one a time or two, but I haven't yet become confident that I know why it doesn't produce the output I think it should. If I mess things up with the hammer & chisel, I understand enough about it to know what I need to do differently, and so I can learn and improve. That makes it fun. The circular saw is still a black box experience.  I can follow instructions, clamp and guide and guard my fingers - but when it doesn't do what I expect (it slides off true and puts a bow in the side of the plank I'm trying to rip) I have no idea why. That makes it frustrating, depressing, and dangerous. I don't feel as if I learn anything new by practising, I just embed my incompetence deeper. Perhaps one day the penny will drop and I will understand what it is that I don'tunderstand now, but I don't believe it. And that makes all the difference.

So - for now, I will look at the planks I have replaced with satisfaction, even if the ones my blokey mates have done for me are more level, squarer, and not split at the ends because the nails were too big. I don't care. I'm grateful, of course, and I can admire their workmanship.  But not far below the surface of the grateful adult is a jubilant (and slightly defiant) kid crowing because I DID IT MYSELF!! And I think my wonky, split, uneven boards are wonderful.

A little mastery goes a long, long way.

P.S.Thanks, guys! And one day I'll get you to teach me how to use a circular saw properly.