When my oldest son was a toddler, we bought him Richard Scarry's Busy Busy Town. I had happy memories of Richard Scarry books from my own childhood, and I gave him the book shortly before we moved to Scotland. He thought it was the BEST BOOK EVER. He was ENTRANCED. He wanted to make sure the woman next to us on the plane understood the charms of his Richard Scarry book. Like, really sure. Did I show you the squasher-downer? Are you sure? Would you like to see the squasher-downer one more time? (Dear lady on the plane, wherever you are: sorry about that.)
The job of the squasher-downer was to take a garbage dump and turn it into a park where people could picnic. 2016 Jamie is unconvinced about the wisdom of dining atop potentially toxic waste, but Richard Scarry did not consult me before sending Huckle Cat and Lowly Worm off on their picnic. He made it seem like an easy-breezy undertaking -- no mercury in these fluorescent light bulbs, folks!
I've mentioned before that I've been working my way through Mystie Winckler's Simplified Organization course. There are six modules, and I've been feeling stuck in Module 5. Part of it is that my semester has started and there is not a ton of extra space in my head, but part of it is the Brain Dump.
Mystie Winckler is a big fan of the brain dump, where you make yourself a List of all the things that are niggling at you. I made the list, sure. It covered most of 6 pages on a legal pad, but some of that was my brain worrying again and again about the same thing. Did I write it down already? Can't remember; let's write it down again to be sure. Now I have it condensed to two pages, but the next steps feel onerous. I am supposed to go through line by line and attack it with Dave Allen-style mind-like-water zest. Did you know Dave Allen used to be a karate instructor before he became a productivity guru? Imagine me delivering a fearsome sanbon-zuki to my pile of indecision and uncertainty. Imagine it really hard for me, friends, because I can't quite imagine it myself yet.
I am mixing metaphors here, to have my imaginary squasher-downer delivering imaginary karate punches. I've got my dump; I'd rather have a lovely peaceable picnic spot. I'm not quite sure how to get from point A to point B. Maybe I'll just try the small bites approach: 10 minutes a day probably won't cause me to sanbon-zuki myself in the face, right? Right??
I'll report back on my squashing-downing progress. Picnics ahoy!