I “Love To” Do The Mediflection Groove

I’m a sculptor, and not a very good one at that.  But I “love to” do it.  Not like I love to eat pizza or jump on a trampoline.  It’s different kind of “love to.”  It’s the kind of “love to” that I don’t exactly realize is a “love to” unless I really think about it.  It’s the kind of “love to” that I get lost in.  Actually, I haven’t sculpted it in years, but I came across a box of my sculptures while cleaning the garage yesterday, and instantly, without trying, I remembered the “love to” part.  I felt it.  It felt good.  It made me want to sculpt.

Then, in that same moment (and in the ones that followed it), I realized that that “love to” isn’t exclusive to sculpting (for me).  I feel it when I’m painting; something I haven’t done in a long time either.  Upon that realization, I wanted to paint.  I thought about driving up to the art supply store for a box of clay and a canvas that afternoon.  But then, again in the connected moments, I realized that the “love to” I was so excited about also happens when I’m landscaping and gardening.  Hold on, landscaping and gardening are things that I do all the time.  I could do them right now if I want.  Well, not right now, but soon.  I might just do them later on today.

And hold on again…that same “love to” happens when I write!  I know, because I am doing that right now, and I am “loving to!”  Holy macaroni (as my three-year-old would say), maybe it’s not the sculpting, the paining, the landscaping, or the writing…maybe it’s something else.  Maybe it a side affect of those things.  The common thread between all of those activities is that when I do them I tend to get into a groove.  You know, I nestle into a zone of hyper-distracted focus (goofy, but you know what I mean).  It’s the groove!  It’s the groove!  I love the groove!  Maybe I’m groovy.  Maybe I’ve taken it too far.

Maybe the groove is my meditation.  I’m not in the lotus position, and I’m not focused on breathing, but I am relatively comfortable, and I am hyper focused on something.  When I’m in the groove I’m so focused that I often don’t know what that something is.  When I come out of the groove I feel revitalized.  My thoughts seem streamlined.  I have new ideas.  I’m excited about next steps.  I think that in the groove, I unintentionally reflect.  I think I get lost in reflection.  When I’m really in it good, time goes away.  I think that it’s my mediflection groove.  When I’m doing a “love to” thing like sculpting, painting, landscaping and gardening, or writing, and when I get lost in that thing, I’m also meditating and reflecting.

Here’s the rub, I sat down to write about reflection this afternoon.  I did so because I find reflection to be indelibly tied to effective learning, and as an educational leader I’m terribly interested in thinking, writing, and talking about effective learning.  I’m always looking for ways to understand and foster a culture of it.  I didn’t know that this piece would become about my mediflection groove.  But it did.  And composing it remained me of something very important…one man’s nonsense is often another man’s logic.  While I’m exploding with thoughts about how my mediflection groove is tied to my effective learning and growth, and how I might be able to translate that into a deepened understanding of others’ effective learning and growth potential, the whole thing might be meaningless drabble to you.  You might unsubscribe from this blog after having read it.

Even if that’s the case, I challenge you to at least consider your own mediflection groove.  What is it that get’s you lost and focused?  What activity inadvertently drives you into a state of meditative reflection?  What do you “love to” do?  Maybe it’s cooking, maybe it’s walking your dog, maybe it’s flossing your teeth, and maybe it doesn’t matter.  Maybe what does matter is that we can each recognize our “love to” activities, feel comfortable taking the time to engage in them, and then allow the mediflection groove to work its learning magic.  Maybe educators can know the learners they serve well enough to recognize, support, and encourage each one’s “love to” activities with intention, and incorporate that knowledge into their instructional design.  And…if this is a bunch of malarkey, and if there’s no such thing as a mediflection groove, trying it still could submerge you more deeply into the things that you “love to” do.  Not a bad side effect to hogwash.

 

Dream Big.  Work Hard.  Be Well.