Vacations Stimulate the Imagination
As someone who has a hard time “slowing down”, the concept of going on vacation comes as a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it gives me the opportunity to escape reality, if only for a couple days. But on the other, it pulls me out of my zone, and makes me go crazy.
This vacation reminded me of these hard truths as we traveled to South Carolina for a week. By day five, part of me was dying to get back to work. But those first couple days revealed a side of me that I never knew existed. When you remove the noise — the emails, phone calls, and a thousand errands — clarity and creativity is brought forth. That part of me has always been there, but it was drowned out by all the noise.
I’ve said for months that I’ve wanted to travel, but not in the context of vacation. Rather, go away for a weekend to work in a new environment. Writing in the Appalachian mountains is different than writing in your own back yard. Reading a book on the beach is different than laying in bed. And last week, I got to experience just a glimpse of this. I read 7 books in 7 days, wrote approximately ten pages of solid articles, and bought a sketch book! Ideas flooded my mind so fast, it was hard to keep up!
And now we’re home, but the experience of escaping it all truly changed my perception about myself.
Currently, I’m sitting at a picnic table in Thompson Park. The change in atmosphere is quite refreshing. Now I’ll just take a minute to run through some of the ideas and inspiration I found on our trip.
Social media has given us the opportunity to share and create in a medium that promotes falsification. Filters and edited photos abound, all unrealistically portraying a reality that does not exist. It is for this reason that I despise Facebook, Instagram, and the rest. But on our 16 hour car ride home, I heard an idea so profound, I had to listen many times before the idea fully sank in.
The idea was this: what if someone was able to document, instead of create? Instead of distorting our perception of ourselves through filters, what if someone shared their process of creativity? What if right now I snapped a photo of myself writing in the park, and posted that instead? Would that genuine openness not be compelling enough to draw a crowd?
These questions have resonated with me for two reasons. One, because of my already existing dislike for Instagram. And two, this form of documentation promotes my process of learning as a response to my critiques. Like, who cares what some stuck-up 18 year old punk thinks? Probably no one. But what if my process of creativity — my writing format, my workflow, my journal setup — could help someone else do the same? It’s not about the work I create. It’s about the process; the tools I use that can help others as well.
Sharing my thoughts online has been difficult. It’s opened me up to judgment and constant criticism for every word I publish. In a 500 word blog post, there’s 500 reasons for someone to complain.
I front, all the time. It’s my way of protecting myself. By closing off, or speaking disingenuously, I feel it keeps me free from judgment. People tell me that I surround myself with metaphorical brick walls. And lately, I’ve become quite the mason.
Writing for others has given every person with an internet connection the opportunity to follow me on this crazy journey of life.
The next idea hits just as hard as the last: thinking critically as a pathway to peace. There’s a strange connection between reading and writing. The dynamic between the two produces something special, which I believe is the ability to think critically. Too often people fall into careers and habits that they’ve never thought about critically. They have no answer to the question, “Why?”.
For hundreds of years, people worked because they needed food and shelter. Then in recent days people have worked because it’s the, “right thing to do.” Now we’re entering a third phase of existence. If man is neither driven by primal forces, or moral values, then why should he do anything? I stole this idea from Victor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Ultimate Meaning. He postulates that this search for purpose in our lives is not something which can be dictated. Rather, it must be sought out by each individual, in their own time.
One of the great flaws of our educational institutions in the United States is this: Instead of teaching people how to think, we’re teaching people what to think. This is one of the fundamental reasons why I believe our schools are failing. Having just endured 12 years of education, I can confidently say that the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned weren’t taught in the classroom. They were lessons I learned for myself, by making mistakes in the real world, where grades don’t exist, and rules aren’t followed.
What if someone was given the tools to think critically for themselves? What kinds of great work would they be able to achieve? I’ve never been in a classroom where the educational process was a journey, but what if that could exist?
I imagine a world where my students come into my class not knowing what to expect, and neither do I. Instead, we embark together on a journey that has no defined end. It’s like piling students into a car and saying, “Where do you want to explore?”
As I enter my freshman year of college, I fear that it would be all too easy for me to just hunker down, pass the class, and move on with life. There’s probably thousands of students who will do just that: they’ll memorize the material for a grade, pass the exam, and forget it all six months later. But that’s exactly how the system is designed! I believe at one point our educational system fostered success outside of academia, but the rules have been modified over time in favor of a system that pumps out degrees instead of well-educated, critically thinking adults. Of course this depends on the institution, but my intuition tells me I’m not the only person thinking these ideas.
Part of me wants to do exactly what I mentioned above. Maybe I should start a class were people can learn differently. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to ask people to join me in a different kind of class. Maybe I’ll call it, “Blaine’s Magic School Bus”.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m excited to see where it leads. Traveling may not be your thing, but vacations can certainly stimulate your imagination.
