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How To Get Out Of Your Head

How To Get Out Of Your Head

BY Staff

How To Get Out Of Your Head

Spain is beautiful.  I’ve now visited France, the UK, Holland, Germany and Italy here in Europe, but something about this one has captivated me uniquely. I’m here with my family, and the cities (well most of the cities) we’ve visited, and the people therein seem to have some sort of way about them, a certain energy or vibe, that is at once warm, elegant, and beautiful.
With that said, I’ve been doing a lot of work on this trip – a lot of “in my head” sort of stuff in advance of a few things that we’ll be releasing in November and December. And whenever I get in my head, I become, well…slightly off.
My head is a place where systems and logic take charge. Where if/then conditionals are torn apart, tested, and reconstituted.  Sometimes notepads are involved. I have a slightly odd perspective on human relations – one that is able to analyze without emotion, even when I’m the subject of the interaction – that has perhaps come from too much time watching and coaching men to better interact with women.
But I’ve found one sure-fire remedy for in-my-headness. The haiku. A humble poem that attempts to encapsulate a moment in the briefest of words and tones.
If you’ve never before done poetry or haiku writing, I encourage you to try it. It really gets you out of your head and into the world around you. It makes me feel at peace while I’m doing it.
My favorite haiku ever, and always my inspiration, was authored by science fiction writer Neil Stephenson. If you’ve ever read something better than this, please share.
The leaves of Shanghai.
Pale doorways to a steel sky.
Winter has begun.
I won’t claim to be a great haiku-ist, but here are a few I penned on the train from Jarez to Sevilla today, regarding various people and experiences of the last week.
Dusk’s gradient sky.
The train’s window a canvas.
She is coming home.
The chill of Jarez.
Forever fall in this town,
its season and heart.
She floats: an arrow,
Grace and beauty in motion,
deadly when she strikes.
Perfume fills the air,
voices join; women in love
with life and friendship
Family is home.
We merely fly, the world spins
and takes us with it.

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