On where I take my brain
I am fortunate enough to have a home office in which I do most of my work. It’s set up to be a space that works well for me and that I like spending time in. It’s got 1000+ books on the wall, a sofa, pictures and art that I enjoy looking at, a big desk with a big monitor, lots of stationery tucked away in drawers, and lots of technology stored in nicely labelled crates in cupboards. It’s a great space for all kinds of things. Writing emails? No problem. Having Zoom meetings? Fantastic. Doing technical design work? Go for it! But it’s not a great space for creative thinking and for a long time I was struggling to figure out why.
“Everything I need is right here!” I would say to myself. Hot and cold running high-speed internet, a big pot of fancy pencils, close proximity to snacks and coffee. The desk even goes up and down. So, why was it proving so hard to think creatively when I was ensconced there?
Is it the internet? Everyone is always saying that it’s eroding our brains and ushering us towards the collapse of civilisation. Well, possibly. Probably, even. But I’ve got the internet in my pocket pretty much wherever I go so I don’t think it’s as simple as that. That said, jettisoning particularly nefarious and mind-atrophying apps from my phone, iPad, and laptop definitely helps restore some space for mental creativity. That’s not to say I’ve gone full Luddite-slash-zen monk about all this, but putting in some hefty boundaries in my digital life, to keep those more dopamine-pumping platforms in their proper place has only been a good thing though.
It seems, then, that my lovely home office, carefully planned, designed, and furnished, and stuffed full of all kinds of excellent things is a really good place to Get Shit Done but not a great place to, well, think. Or at least, to think creatively, freely, and playfully.
Where, then, are the places where more creative thought happens for me? Because it’s pretty important that I can do some from time to time.
Well, there’s when I walk the dog. When I’m sitting in a car, of course. When I’m on a plane or train. When I’m sat at the coffee shop. When I’m at the supermarket. Sometimes even when I’m cycling or swimming. Obviously, these are places where my opportunity to pluck a book off the shelf, unearth that action camera that’s been gathering dust, or crack open another tab full of YouTube recommendations are significantly curtailed. My access to the internet is, if not restricted, then certainly reduced - that 6” phone screen is never going to compete with the HD pixel palace of a widescreen monitor.
I think, though, the real common feature of all of these scenarios is that it’s that much harder to immediately occupy myself. All of them offer the space, even the necessity, to let thoughts come unbidden. There are no droning distractions to crowd them out. It’s not quite boredom, although that certainly seems to pave the way for more creative thinking, but it’s rather a certain kind of low-level activity. Being shuttled somewhere in a car, train or plane, or hoofing the dog around the block all occupy the mind just enough to stop you from plunging into the real depths of unbridled introspection, whilst still keeping your mental hands ‘free’ to do a little tinkering.
Near enough every time I’ve been chewing on a difficult or tricky problem, fiddling with some irksome design issue, or searching for a crisp, fresh idea for a new opportunity things have clicked into place whilst I’ve been doing something else. Never anything too taxing, of course. Just something with enough activity to keep the spotlight of my attention away from the question at hand, but not so much that my subconscious can’t really go to town on it.
“We might hold a problem to be solved lightly in the back of our consciousness instead of the front of our mind. This way, we can remain present with it over time while engaging in a simple, unrelated task. Examples include driving, walking, swimming, showering, washing dishes, dancing, or performing any activity we can accomplish on autopilot. At times, physical movement can spur ideas to move too”
The Creative Act - Rick Rubin
What I need to learn, is that that’s ok. Not all kinds of work/activity/occupation can be done just everywhere. I wouldn’t try and write a design brief whilst out with the dog, but maybe I can try and get to the bottom of that creative problem I’ve been prodding at. It’s fine that things have their own places and times. It’s good that they do, in fact. Banging my head against the frustration of trying to get the wrong things done in the wrong kinds of places is an important lesson. As is coming to understand where and in what kinds of contexts different sorts of thinking are best suited.
Just because I take my brain everywhere with me doesn’t mean it likes doing things everywhere I take it.
From now on, then, I best make sure to have a little notebook and pen in my pocket when I’m waiting for the pooch to poop, or kicking my heels in an airport departure lounge and then I can make solid use of that home office when it comes time to Get Shit Done.