Synthesize

As a former keyboard player on the church worship team during high school, the word synthesize brings to mind synthesizer, a collection of various electronic sounds possible at the touch of my fingertips on the Roland instrument. Anything from a jazz organ to a grand piano to an ethereal soundscape, my hands were busy on Sunday mornings as I filled the spaces of people’s auditory experience with chords that would accompany their singing of praise songs in the worship service. Together with my fellow musicians, we created something powerful, something beautiful.

Now the word takes on a different tone for me, having just completed an academic course on entrepreneurial mindset, but it might as well have been a course on how to think critically. The professor had laid out clear guidelines on how to engage in the discussion boards: build on each other’s posts to further the discussion, reference the texts you read, don’t just summarize but synthesize the ideas. This exercise in engaging thoughtfully with my classmates (along with specific feedback from the professor on how to improve discussion techniques) led to a rich educational experience in not just how to have productive discussions, but how to think better. How does the text tie in with the points the discussant is making? How does that build on the concepts we learned last week? What additional questions does this bring up? It almost didn’t matter what the discussion topic was about, because the skillset we were cultivating was one we could carry into everyday life.

Like a synthesizer keyboard that helps the band blend to create beautiful music, so the ability to synthesize ideas brings people together in harmony. Business coach Jadah Sellner is known to have said, “There are no unique messages, only unique messengers.” And yet it’s the uniqueness of those messengers that allow the important messages of life to land for those who receive them. A musical scale has a finite number of pitches, and yet there are countless songs that have been written using those same pitches over and over again in unique ways. There are a finite number of musical instruments, but the auditory textures those instruments bring, both individually and collectively, create countless sound experiences for the listener. Likewise there are common principles, nuggets of wisdom, tropes and archetypes repeated across history, and yet it’s the ability of the messengers to recognize the patterns and communicate those patterns to others that makes it feel as if the receiver is hearing good news for the first time. When we learn how to synthesize ideas, to tie concepts together, to integrate our knowledge and experience with what we learn, we bring a freshness to the patterns around us, making new connections where there were none before.

In a recent conversation about declining literacy rates across the U.S., it was pointed out to me that literacy doesn’t just mean the ability to read words, it’s the ability to comprehend information being conveyed as well as integrate that information to better navigate the world. Integration is how we make connections; the better we understand, the better we communicate and vice versa. If we can make connections between ideas, we can better make connections among people. And this connectedness is what allows humans to flourish; it’s what makes the music of life.

Now that the academic course is over, I find myself craving more discussions, more ways to ideate, to connect, to make that music. I often find solace in the pages of a book, reading the words of people much more knowledgable than I on various subjects. But less often do I discuss what I read with others, applying that knowledge to my own life. It’s as if the creative cycle is truncated sometimes. A book really isn’t complete upon the turning of the final page; a book is complete when you’ve shared the message with another. And many books on my shelves remain incomplete.

So now I ask myself where and what to synthesize next. What ideas are beckoning to be heard? What connections are waiting to be made, if only I would reach out and facilitate them? A Roland keyboard makes no sound unless I’m willing to place my hands on the keys. A book touches no lives if I cannot turn the page. The process takes practice, but so do all good things. Shall we make music together?

My Blog Anniversary 2020

In January of 2013, I began this blog as a sophomore in college. I was having trouble deciding what to major in, and I began writing as a way to help me figure out what to do, to help me figure out myself.

At first I wrote often – almost every week. I wrote about things I enjoyed and things I wanted to learn more about. Things that confused me and things I longed for. I changed from declaring an undecided major to a bachelor of science in multimedia production, although I still didn’t know what I wanted to do with that. I chose a broad major in hopes by the time I graduated I would have it figured out, but graduation came and went and I still had no idea.

I continued to write, though less often. Writing was how I processed my thoughts, and in many ways it felt easier to write than it did to speak. I found that in the act of writing down what I’m thinking or struggling with, my process feels more complete. I don’t stumble over my words the way I do when I try to express myself verbally.

At the same time I wanted to maintain a healthy boundary on expressing vulnerability on the internet, so I kept hand-written journals and would save the less private thoughts for publishing online.

Throughout my journey I sought other ways of processing life: therapy, yoga, walking, and connecting with friends. Writing became just one of many tools, a supplement to help me create balance and to live more holistically.

These days I continue to write as a form of self-discipline. I’m still figuring out how to balance privacy without seeming sterile. If I do publish something online it’s usually with minimal details of events and people, and with a greater focus on reflections and emotional process. Countless times I’ve heard the advice “write what you know,” which often doesn’t leave me with much to write about other than myself. And so my journey continues.

Tricky Transitions

Some of my readers may know that I started this blog a couple years ago when I was trying to figure out what to declare as my college major. Because writing helps me to sort out my thoughts, I was hoping that blogging would help me better understand my areas of interest and therefore better understand myself. While I eventually did declare a major that I ended up graduating with, I find myself in a familiar place of not knowing what I want to do with my life.

The time right after graduation was challenging. I was starting a new job, getting ready to move, and trying to figure out what friends were in the area and available to spend time with. Meanwhile, the need for a consistent budget haunted me day and night, as I was an emerging adult who was quickly becoming fully responsible for supporting herself. I would feel lonely, but then feel guilty because my circumstances were pretty decent, and I wasn’t suffering from a huge crisis. I say these things in past tense, but really I am still working through each element as I learn how to act grown up like so many before me.

Other young people I have talked to empathize with me as they remember how difficult their time of transition out of school/into independent adulthood was. It is comforting and validating to know that I am not alone in my struggles, but I wish there was more concrete advice to be given for those who find themselves in similar situations. As frustrating as it can be, however, there is no set formula for how to survive outside of school. Yes, community, budgeting, and hobbies are all worthy goals to pursue, but what do you do when you are pursuing those things and you still feel lonely and disinterested? The most common thing that I seem to hear is to just keep on keepin’ on. I guess that’s really all I can do, regardless of how fruitless the journey seems at the moment. I will figure it out eventually, but it is frustrating how the seemingly pettiest of challenges are often the trickiest to maneuver.

One Degree to Rule Them All

Summer 2013

I am neither a bachelor nor a scientist, but eventually I will be considered both, provided that I choose a path of study.

It’s tough for me to choose.

I enjoy a variety of activities. I don’t think I could stay sane if every day were exactly the same as the one before. Sometimes, however, it’s easy to get stuck in the mindset that I’m supposed to go to college to to get one degree and then get one job for the rest of my life. Yuck! (I know that’s not true, of course)

Don’t get me wrong. I love college. What I don’t love is that you can only choose one or two majors at a time, unless of course you intend to stay there for more than four years. If you plan to be in school for more than four years that’s awesome. Maybe I’ll end up doing that. I just wish sometimes that I could major in five different things at once. I would love to be half film major, half music major, half theater major, half physics/astronomy major, half wine-making major, and while I’m at it, half math major (although I clearly need to work on my math skills). I find that I might enjoy taking certain music classes, for example, but I don’t want to take all the classes required for a music major because I’m not interested in all those classes.

I realize that the key is to never stop learning, even after graduation. I don’t think I’ll be getting half a dozen degrees, but I do plan to take classes even after I’m “done” college.

And I suppose it is nice to be able to walk into an interview and say “Having this specific degree shows that I’ve had certain training in this area.” Although at this point I don’t even know where I would go to be interviewed.

That’s the tough part. Indecisiveness. I’m fine with not knowing what the future holds, but it’s frustrating to not be able to decide what to major in, even if I don’t work in that field for the rest of my life.

The Adult Cult

I joined a cult called “Adult”:
Ditching the dramas for the documentaries
And embracing the boring which many call life.
Scheduled into a system
Formed by the few for the many
Leaving little room for spontaneity.
Where is the creativity, the craziness,
The charisma from our youth?
We have traded the marvelous
For the mundane mediocrity
Of daily life. In the name of
Making money,
We have drowned our dreams
In the depths of human sorrow.
I have come to realize
That what troubles me are not
The traumas of a lifetime – those
I can handle – but rather
The pesky flies of petty problems.
The daily disturbances and annoyances
Coupled with the crippling hopelessness
That comes with realizing
That that’s just the way it is.

A Respectable Young Lady

I got the “lady” thing down. When I was a girl, I learned all sorts of “lady” skills that would prepare me to be a decent woman and successful housewife. I make applesauce. I spin yarn. I can knit and crochet. I paint, sing, and play the harp. I can make quilts and clothes, and serve afternoon tea.

The problem is, activities such as those are no longer as popular as they used to be. Spin yarn? Many people don’t even understand what a drop spindle is, or they have never seen a harp up close.

Felicity Merriman and Elsie Dinsmore were my childhood friends, but I have learned that girls like them remain alive only on the words of a page. While girls my age learned about makeup and name brand clothing, I was out riding horses. While so-and-so was dating her first boyfriend, I was wondering if it was morally okay to wax my eyebrows (would it be vain?). By the time I reached young adulthood, I thought I was well on my way to becoming an accomplished gentlewoman (I use the term loosely). You can imagine my surprise, then, when I discovered that a proper gentlewoman is not esteemed in the same way she would have been a century ago.

These days it appears that society values a woman who is career driven more than housewife driven. Many women today are being awarded for accomplishments that, a century or two ago, only men would have attempted. Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe it means we’ve allowed women to go above and beyond the original expectations of their gender. I think, however, that there is something to be said about a woman who can manage her home well, career or no career. There is a certain beauty that is lost when the art of housekeeping is thrown to the wayside in pursuit of what used to be left to the men.

That’s not to say that pursuing a career is a bad thing. I myself am studying to get a bachelor’s degree, after which I would like to manage a flock of goats (maybe), grow an herb garden, and possibly build my own house. Yes, with my own hands.

Do you remember the term “calling” before it was used in reference to the telephone? In the Victorian era, ladies would pay visits to, or call on, each other. In higher society, women would keep track of who called on them and to whom they owed calls. Paying a call could be compared to paying bills, they were so important. Today? “We should hang out sometime.”

Sometimes I wonder what the hell men are looking for if not a housewife. I may be late in saying this (by about 100 years), but it seems that the woman is having to find a new identity, since it is no longer defined by the skills she acquires for running a home. In a way, this is freeing, because it gives her more independence to choose her own path. In another way, however, it leaves people like me a bit confused about what to do when I’ve spent a significant chunk of my life training to be useful to a man.

Please do not take this as a self-pity rant (although that’s exactly what it is, so forgive me). This is not to say that I cannot survive without a man taking care of me, because I have complete confidence that I can. I think more importantly, I am trying to find my place in 2014 when I feel like I should have been born in 1880.

Why I Don’t Have A Best Friend

When I was a little, one of my friends told me, “I have friends, and I have best friends. You are in my best friends group.”

In a later conversation with my mom, we talked about the meaning of friendship. Those days people were lumping everybody into the category of “friend,” even if they weren’t close with those people. People would call others “friends” who were really acquaintances or people they may be friendly with, and they would call their true friends their “best friends.”

Since I was home schooled, I was lucky to form any relationship I could with people my age. I valued anybody I came into contact with. There was really no point to categorizing people I knew into “friends” and “best friends” when really I meant “acquaintances” and “friends.” So I decided that I didn’t want to have, nor did I want to be a “best friend,” I wanted a true friend.

I guess a true friend is much like what people call a best friend. I view a true friend as being someone who is there for you when you need her, willing to help you out when you’re in trouble, and wanting to spend time with you just because.

Now that I’m in college, I still don’t consider myself as having a “best friend.” A best friend to me sounds exclusive, like you can only have a certain number of best friends. But I do have true friends. Sure, I use the word “friend” lightly at times, perhaps if I am referring to people I am friendly with, or people who could be potential true friends if my relationship with them were to grow. But my true friends are the people I know I can count on.

It’s my goal to not only have true friends, but I also want to be a true friend. I am not perfect, but if you are my friend, I want to be there for you if you need me. Sometimes scheduling in the midst of college can be tough, but I will make a way to be there. I can listen if you need to talk. And I’ll do what I can to help if you need help. If you don’t need help, let’s just hang out and eat food sometime, but please excuse my sarcastic sense of humor. That comes with my friendship.