Archive for the ‘New Thinking’ Category
Make it worse and do the opposite
It’s time to write, but, again, no topic. This writing-once-a-week thing is tough. I drop my son off at the hockey rink and walk back to the parking lot to write in my car (I’m telling you, this is a good place to write). Before I get to my car, my cell phone rings. It’s a teacher friend of mine. He’s the guy at the high school who helps kids work out issues with substance use/abuse and related topics. He’s a real pro – every high school should have a person of his caliber. Without introducing himself, he says, “You want to go for a hike tomorrow?” “I have to work,” I say. “It’s Veteran’s Day,” he says. “Yeah, I know, and I have to work,” I reply. “Oh ya, I forgot about that,” he says with a chuckle.
My mind clicks and I remember a discussion we had the previous week while on a walk. I ask, “Do you remember talking about that trick to break intellectual inertia?” “Ya, we talked about how I used it to help a kid work himself out of some destructive behavior. Make it worse and do the opposite,” he says. “I love it; it works great,” he says. I now have my topic. We talk for a while and he helps my thinking converge. This one is a joint effort.
Here’s the problem: problems are stressful. We have a physiological reaction to problems; adrenaline rushes through our veins; our blood pressure increases; our heart rate increases; we get flushed. This is real. It’s run or attack, flight or fight. Our mental processing is all about survival. And there is real reason for concern; there are real consequences to not solving a problem – your reputation, your authority, your job. Read the rest of this entry »
Tools, training, time, and a great piano teacher
It was Monday night after dinner. My thirteen year old son and I got in the car and started on the drive to hockey practice. I drove and he texted. I was in the middle a struggle to come up with a topic for this post. My son finished a text, snapped his phone shut, and blurted out “Mozart wrote a note to his dad. He told him that he thought silence was the most important part of music.” I responded, “Really.” “He was a rule breaker,” he said. He paused then continued, “The music of the time was smooth with a regular pattern. But he did things that weren’t pleasing to the ear like using 7th notes and Bs right next to B flats. Do you know what else he did?” “No,” I said. “He put a fermata right in the middle of one of his pieces. That’s a rest that’s as long as you want it to be. When you use a fermata you can stop, go out and get a cup of coffee, and come back later and start playing and that’s okay.” “Really,” I said.
I dropped him off at the rink and pulled into a parking spot so I could write in the car (don’t knock it until you try it). I jotted down some scattered thoughts, and it hit me. Jackie! It was Jackie. His piano teacher was behind all this. That morning she taught him about Mozart. I now had my topic.
Jackie is a great piano teacher – really great. Sure, she’s got the pedigree, but more importantly she has the ability to reach my son. She can help him grow his thinking, help him think differently, help him build new thinking for himself. And this new thinking isn’t the kind that stops at his head, but makes it all the way into his chest. He feels this new thinking in his chest. We can learn a lot from Jackie. I want to look at her system for teaching new thinking, which she does under the cover of teaching piano, and compare it to how we improve our engineering thinking under cover of developing new products. Sounds like a stretch, I know, but I’ll take a shot at it.
The framework for Jackie’s system can be described by the three Ts – tools, training, and time. Let’s start with tools. Read the rest of this entry »
Mike Shipulski