Showing posts with label climbing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label climbing. Show all posts

Thursday, 20 July 2017

Climbing and rambling

* (see translation below)

I suspect that today's blog is going to be a rambling affair. But, give me a rambling rose and I am, figuratively speaking, plunging my nose into soft, velvety prettiness; talk to me about your ramble in the woods, and my lungs will fill with imagined fresh air and my head with Enid Blyton adventures, pop up a real estate ad on the sidebar of my computer featuring a 'large, rambling country estate', and my happy day-dreaming seriously encroaches on my output for more than the time of a brief, non-distractable glance.

No, an implied lack of order does not always have to be a negative. Einstein, and some probably trendy young guns (researchers) releasing themselves of the necessity to ever conform to an old work paradigm stood (and stand) by the value of a cluttered work space.

In fact, researching the difference between a climber and a rambling rose, I discovered that a rambler, of the rose variety, has unique qualities; that it is more flexible than a climber (the result of the contortions necessary to support the weight of the determinedly-upward non-rambler?), is more vigorous, has very few thorns and usually only flowers once throughout the year. As a rambler, then, I can and do bloom, I am wise when it comes to the retraction of my barbs, I have stamina and energy...taking the analogy too far?

Reasonably, both order and disorder are necessary for maximum and complementary outputs. However, what if disorder implies creativity, and order, convention? As Head of School in days gone by, I was required to undertake Myers-Briggs personality tests. Supposedly an introspective self-reporting questionnaire, it was never an exercise in discretion. Rather, a point-scoring opportunity to flaunt one's (supposedly better) creative and extrovert leadership qualities.

Ahh - take a look at my desk and tell me who I am.

*If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?

If you would like to see the product of my decidedly (and proudly) orderly book 'But you are in France, Madame', click here.