I broke my pinky toe this week. What I stubbed it on should have been obvious. I mean, a plastic tub of legos, taking up half the hallway? That my three year-old left there, during his righteous fit? What's more obvious? That's why I don't have a good story to tell you, which is annoying. Pay Attention--starting with the obvious! But my attention was elsewhere. It was past 9PM, and I was on my own righteous mission: to get my older kids to clean up after themselves in the kitchen while the baby meowed from the bedroom. (The three year old harumph-ed along beside me to chide his big brothers.) The minute I felt my toe make contact, I knew I had broken it. Your brain gains a momentary crater where it used to sense a comfortably in-tact body part. In my intero-ception, the damage was obvious. WHAT HAPPENED?, the three year old alarmist said, when he heard my expletives reserved for those choice toe moments. I BROKE MY TOE ON YOUR LEGOS! I half-yelled, because the obvious works better in ALL CAPS. The thing is, when you stub or break your toe, it's almost always on something that's right in front of your face, and could have been avoided. It's not like the walls switch around their location to mess with you and bait your appendages (except in Alice in Wonderland. Or when you're chronically exhausted). Look at the story you're telling yourself... From the site of injury, I started building a story-- sound familiar? "Tomorrow is going to suck...so is the next day...Why did I not put that away?" I also thought: dang, this would be a lot more acceptable if I had a good story to tell. Then I realized, a good story can start with the obvious, it just can't stop there. Moving beyond what's obvious What if I looked more closely at why we don't do what we know we should? Or examined the structure of the foot, the function of toes? What if I wrote about the evolution of emotion, studied my three-year old? The fits he has over things the Continue Reading …
observation
For a flawless college essay, use your flaws
For a flawless college essay, use your flaws- wisely. (We're not actually sure anything is "flawless"-- but humor us.) "But don't I want colleges to think I have No Flaws?" you might object cautiously. No! It's a sign of maturity to know and name your flaws, and then treat them as opportunity for growth (crucial!). That, in short, is learning! And colleges want applicants committed to learning. So here's how to use what you've got for what you want to get. (Admitted. Admit it.). What should you do with your flaws to tell a good story and also showcase your strengths? Well first, notice your flaws. Honestly. Start by watching your mind for 1-5 minutes. Set a timer, close your eyes and observe "your" thoughts go by like rush-hour traffic. Examine their content objectively: errors in judgment about yourself or others; weak places in your character that could use reinforcement. Insecurities and doubts. Find the right story: Ask yourself what anecdotes or events from your life--don't overlook the small stuff!-- could inform your reader how you're working with and through these flaws. If you're timid, did you finally get up the nerve to ask your boss for a raise? If you're easily overwhelmed, did you regain balance through service, by sorting cans for a food bank? And now what? Another approach: look at the flawed world and make analogies Many of us have an easier time looking outside than inside ourselves. If that describes you, I suggest you start by using the above technique anyway (watch your mind). Then try commenting on the flaws in the world as a mirror to look inward for similar themes. Plus, this approach works your observation and "critical eye" muscles. And gives you material to be snarky about. Read this example from my life; then try your own. I start with the context: There is a sub-par Indian restaurant near my house; they do so much of their business take-out that they will basically pay you to eat the place. To Continue Reading …