Curiosity Journal: May 25, 2011

I’m recording an occasional Curiosity Journal. Tag words are: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

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Some of you have mentioned that you may begin posting a Curiosity Journal, as well. Be sure to let me know if you do.Reading: Now that I finally finished reading and grading seven reflective essays that introduced seven student portfolios, I look forward to finishing Sophie’s World and diving into summer reading. For the moment, however, I’m letting my eyeballs rest.  Playing: I’m playing around with where I might move my desk to create a better writing space. Right now I’m thinking of commandeering the dining room.  Learning: I bought Enchantment, by Guy Kawasaki, to join the TheHighCalling.org book club, which posts on Mondays. The chapters are packed with summaries and lists, and sometimes a single comment will spark a memory or story from my own life.In Chapter 5, “How to Launch,” the sole spark that ignited interest for me was Guy’s reference to the 2010 TED talk by Derek Sivers that included this three-minute video about the importance of the first follower:In the commentary Sivers points out that the first follower transforms the lone nut into a leader—there’s no movement without the first follower. So, he urges, courageously follow and show others how to follow.Revisiting Sivers’ voice-over analysis (I viewed it when it first came out in 2010), I thought of my kids’ personalities. They aren’t the type to stand out in a crowd; they’d rather serve behind the scenes, supporting others. They are not bold and brazen enough to be a lone nut; but they might be a strong follower who brings others alongside a worthy cause.Side note: As amusing and thought-provoking as this video presentation is, the same crazy outdoor concert footage could just as easily illustrate the dangerous side of following a lone nut without thinking it through.Reacting: I was raised in the Midwest where we endured regularly scheduled tornado drills each spring. Hearts pounding, we school kids scuttled to the bathroom where we were to sit in a line with our backs against the cool tile wall, heads between our knees, tiny arms wrapped around the backs of our necks to provide flimsy protection against tornadic power that could flip cars and strip trees of bark.I began to dream of tornadoes. Sometimes they were small swirls no more intimidating than the swirl of bathtub water slipping down the drain. Other times I dreamed of monster storms consuming our farm fields—nightmares in which I’d frantically race to a basement or shelter, often in slow motion, waking before I knew if I made it to safety.I haven’t had a dream like that since I was about ten years old.But this week, when I flipped on the TV and saw footage of the storm that blew apart Joplin, I thought back to those childhood nightmares.And two nights ago, after thirty-some-odd years, I dreamed that a tornado was bearing down on us. I woke up in a sweat, heart racing.Is it any wonder, though? As I write this, a tornado warning is in effect for our county; and as I glance out the window, dark clouds fill the western sky.Writing: As I mentioned in an earlier post, today I published a short piece with TheHighCalling.org, a website that invites conversation about the intersection of work and faith in our everyday lives. Hop over to hear about the day my first published book was delivered to my doorstep.….continued at TheHighCalling.org. There you have it: A Curiosity Journal that reveals what I’m reading, playing, learning, reacting to and writing.