Life is most happily lived simply.
Whenever it gets complicated our systems shut down or are compromised in some way or another.
We may take on new responsibilities at work or assume more roles that cut into our free time, like coaching both the boys’ basketball AND baseball teams.
All this additional complexity to our lives takes its toll.
The world, although smaller than ever with our ability to remain technologically in touch, presents more challenges to our abilities to live simply.
As kids it was just that: pretty simple.
I still hear parents ask their small children… ”Justin, do you need to go potty?”
And I cringe.
We weren’t asked that when we were kids.
Going “potty” sounds a little like going crazy to me.
“Justin, do you need to go batty?” No, you say? How about potty?
I know it comes from the old, “sitting on the pot” reference, but really, we’re masking the gist of it with a more sanitary phrase.
Look at our kids as infants. After dropping a deuce, these kids are all smiles. It just makes a body feel good. It’s not talked about except in places like this blog or on TV commercials for fiber supplements, but making doody can really be a game changer.
My father once related to me that if all the impoverished people of the world were just fed, then there would probably be way fewer wars.
Personally, I agree that once my belly is full, I tend to be less aggressive, but, and you know where I’m going with this…
A full belly in the present means that with any luck at all, it won’t be long ‘til you’re making doody once again! Yay!
When we’re kids, making doody typically comes easy and we aren’t even aware of the whole imperative of staying “regular” that will be pounded into our consciousness as we grow into adulthood.
How’s your diet?
Are you regular?
How many times do you go to the bathroom each day?
Really, some folks are thinking I’ve really lost it, writing about crap (pun very much intended) like this.
We don’t typically talk about stuff like this with our friends or family once we’re grown up (note to self: don’t grow up. Rest assured, if there was any doubt before reading all this, I haven’t, nor will I).
I used to play with Mr. Potato Head and his family when I was a kid.
I can’t remember all the names of the Potato-meister’s family right now, save for one that will always be ingrained in my memory due to the joy this experience brought me.
I was probably no more than three or four years of age. After going to the bathroom, and being quite proud of my “production,” I ran out to broadcast the good news of my delivery to whatever family members were in the house—motioning and calling to them:
“Come here! Come here! Look! I made a Katie the Carrot!”
Remember this day, folks, as we can mark it on the little calendar on the upper left hand corner of this blog, as the day Skelley went potty, err, I mean crazy.
Professional creative teams sometimes get constipated.
I’m not talking literally, of course, although I’m sure some team members, at times, certainly do.
Creativity comes when it does, sometimes has an expiration date and can quickly run the gamut, grow stale, dry up (choose whatever cliché you are most comfortable with), at the least convenient times.
The solution lies not in retreats, team building seminars or meetings with higher-ups.
These attempts at unclogging the idea channel largely miss the target.
When creativity is in short supply, typically it is because things have become more complex than they should be. When the structure of things is simple and fun, the artistic juices start running down the sides of our brains in blessed abundance.
In this case, “making a doody” is a metaphor for lightening things up, to stop being so serious, and to get back to being more natural and living outside your work cube.
Basically, if they make a doody, everything will just flow more easily, idea-wise. Makes sense, doesn’t it?
You don’t have to answer that.
But trust me, you really should just go make a doody now, anyway.