Flexibility: The Brain's Best Asset

     I was recently chatting with my soon to be mom-in-law about how powerful mental flexibility is in almost branch of life. The conversation began simply with reflections about both of our experiences with toddlers, her having had three of her own, and I being nine years older than my youngest sibling, remembering how difficult it could be to decipher what a toddler really wants or needs. If a toddler asks for a banana, and you hand him a peeled banana, he may cry. Why? Because he had imagined an intact banana for himself to peel. Worse still if you peeled, cut and plated the banana and he wished to eat it from the peel, intact. A child can become so infuriated at having been given the wrong version of their request. As an older sister, I remember frequently being able to decipher my little brother's yearnings before our dad could, banana or otherwise. 

    This nostalgic reflection on my own childhood inspired further thought into the strength that children possess which outperforms that of the adults in their lives: mental flexibility. At 12 years old, my brain was still encountering many a thing for the very first time. A sense of novelty tinged all my experiences, allowing me to see my brother's struggle to articulate his desires with an innate sense of empathy and curiosity, not only because I loved him, but because I identified with his constant state of learning, and being challenged in his assumptions. In another way, at 12, I was only nine years removed from having been three myself, so I could sympathize with the woes of toddlerhood from my own vague impressions formed at that age. 

    As we grow up though, life becomes more monotonous. Many of our requests of others have predictable, socially acceptable answers. Less and less do we encounter things like the banana incident, which force our malleable brains to conform. We have set routines which include full-time jobs, strict exercise schedules, and routine appointments which cement our lives into predictable, regimented series of events. These constants are a comfort to each of us in the face of life's discombobulating events, whether its unexpected expenses, a death in the family, change in job or living situation woes (in my case). Our brains go from accommodating a completely new barrage of information each day to a tight, unforgiving structure, which has learned only to accept the predicted stimuli with few exceptions. 

    I began thinking about what I do to keep my mind agile and flexible, despite the natural progression of life and our regimented coping mechanisms. Of course, the transition period between college and a full-time career is exercise enough for the brain. But reflecting upon my current habits can serve as a meaningful touchpoint for life's many changes.

    One thing I have always credited myself with is my excitement about trying out new forms of art, as often as possible. I am currently finishing up a course through the Columbus Cultural Arts Center teaching the basics of watercolor painting, and its' many applications and techniques. I am a knitter, crocheter, and have even quilted a blanket for my printmaking course (many thanks to Betsy who stood over my shoulder and guided me through best techniques, advice and, as always, great company). I have come to love the feeling of being genuinely not good at different types of art. Why? Because it keeps me flexible and gives me something to strive towards. This is not to say that I relish in failure, or that I always take it in stride. It does mean, however, that I contextualize my mistakes in the larger landscape of my life. Being bad at something is the first step to becoming better at it! It also cultivates a deep appreciation for the tremendous amounts of mental flexibility and resilience required to become better at that particular process.

Even with my quilt pictured above, made for my printmaking class this semester, I pinned the top layer, batting, and my backing together before sewing, to ensure good continuity and structure of the seams, and managed to avoid actually pinning the top, decorative layer of the quilt into the mix. The result? I sewed the backing and batting together, leaving my hand-block printed fabric squares all by their lonesome, loose from the blanket in several large areas. Out came the seam ripper, and some newfound humility. Of course, as the above picture shows, the quilt eventually did come together, faults and all. Even though it is arguably not expertly done, it is done, and that is worth celebrating to me. I applied skills from other art forms, like the weaving required for knit and crochet garments and repeat measuring of dimensions and alignment that I picked up from framing artwork at my first job in the art framing department of a craft store.

    I believe the practice of art is the best, most available modality in which you can exercise your brain and retain flexibility. Doodles, painting, ceramics, jewelry-making and metalwork are some examples of the endless list of ways to exercise and entertain your brain without self-restraint or criticism. Make things for the sake of making. I believe it is the underlying trait that allows me to handle things with grace, even when I am bad at them, or when I am not fully invested in them. The ability to embrace the new applies to all facets of life. Whatever way you personally can incorporate it into your life is meaningful and will deepen your appreciation of the world. 

    As for me, every time I try a new form of art, I realize how little I truly understand of our world. I am refreshed in my understanding that there are endless skills and practices that await me, and that I am lucky enough to be able to dabble in whatever I may choose. My printmaking class renewed my respect for patience and its fruit. Let me tell you, applying ink to a carving and actually printing on one piece of paper takes longer than one would anticipate. My watercolor course has shown me how to literally let go and allow the paint to travel where it will on my canvas and blend how it sees fit. Let me know what you have tried for the first time lately. A new food? Maybe you've renewed your interest in reading, or started doodling like you did in elementary school. I would love to know!