Synectics

Synectics: a “metaphor/analogy-based technique for bringing different elements together in a search for new ideas or solutions.”

I used this in class the other day with starter questions. Here are a few of my own synectic entries:

Which is more like a legend, a mirror or glass?

We look through a glass to see what is "out there," to see what is ahead of us— it is our reality and our future. A mirror, on the other hand, reflects us back into ourselves and tunnels back, layer by layer. Generation after generation of anscestors superimpose themselves onto our images. A mirror shows us the stories, the legends of our pasts, who we were, and who we might become.

Which is wiser, a pen or a pencil?

A pen makes a bold statement, confident in its correctness, as a person confident in his or her own choice in life marches boldly forward. The pencil, however, acknowledges the temporal state. As new knowledge and experiences come up over the horixon, the pencil draws upon them,erasing and recreating itself. We are wise to open ourselves to new possibilities— to be willing to change.

Which is braver, a year or an hour?

A year has the luxury of time: months, weeks, days, hours—8,760 of them— stretched before its feet in intertwining paths. There is room for mistakes, for a few wrong turns, for the retracing of paths, or pause for reflection. An hour, on the other hand, is expected to perform on the spot— no time for rehearsal, no time for thought or cowardice. The hour must plunge in and get its beusiness done. Its minutes tick down and when the deadline comes, the hour is gone, never to be retrieved.

So very long between my posts
It's 7:32 PM and I've been homne from work only 20 minutes or so.
And I still brought more work home in my bag.
A never ending cycle
Or am I just slow

Small smile today
A student actually asked me
if I dye my hair to get it this nice shade of white!

Schedules and work loads

Time
flies away with a cliche
wrapped around its neck,
one end trailing,
tantalizing.
If only
I could jump high enough,
I could wrestle it
into submission.
A wind whips; it dances
just outside my grasp.
Instead I grind
my beans.
One more cup at dusk;
One more cup at morning;
Perhaps time will not notice
I've stolen an hour from sleep.

Packing pro

or at least I should be. . . I pack twice for each leg of my trip--once before I leave and once at the airline counter! That makes it 6 times now and I've only been on this journey for 18 days.
Lesson learned: never goon one of those "10 European Cities in 10 Days" tours!!!!

Up Up an Away

Picture a crowded airport check-in area-- blurry eyed travelers, carts with mounds of luggage in front of them , shifting on their feet, contemplating the meaning of life at 4 AM as they wait for officially blue-suited airline crew members to ask the all important question-- "Did you pack your own bag?" In front of the check-in counter, a harried, grey-haired woman is kneeling on the floor by her one lonely, OPEN suitcase grabbing handfuls of undies and shirts, a random shoe, and stuffing them into a limp black sports bag. ???



That's me. One single bag, weighing in at 27.6 kg. Next to me an asian woman with a cart piled so high she can barely be seen sails through her check in process while I am forced to repack in the middle of the airport. While I'm still under my 30kg limit, I can't have any one bag weigh in at more than 23 kg. ??? How do these other people get away with it??

Anyway, a couple of legs , 18 and 1/2 hours, and a few dried out tastless in-flight meals later, I'm here! Back in the US of A. I have 2 more domestic flights to pack my way through on this month-long sojourn which I truly don't want to think about just yet. I need coffee first!

To Blog or not to Blog

I am finally succumbing to the trend -- I, who have never been able to keep up a diary or even an organizer or planner for more than a couple of months, am taking out a lease, attempting to become a denizen of cyberspace. Why? Well, why not? I've facebooked and Hi5-ed so I might as well try something new. Problem is, what do I write about? Why should anyone (even myself) want to read these dribblings? Maybe no one will.
And on that note, I think it's time for another cup of coffee!