A Lesson on Focus from an Inanimate Object

Last night I was going through some old CD-ROM’s of files from the computers I have owned over the years and I found a little Brain Function executable program that asks you a series of twenty seemingly disjointed questions and evaluates your answers to tell you what kind of learner and person you are.  I couldn’t even tell you where I got this thing or who the software designer is.  It’s a silly little exercise but it only took five minutes of my time and it had sparked my curiosity so I went ahead and did it.

The subsequent evaluation told me I showed a strong dominance toward right-hemisphere thinking with an equally strong auditory processing preference, “a most unusual and conflicting set of characteristics” it exclaimed.  Well I am all about being unusual but I felt a little unnerved at what my little Netbook meant by conflicting so I read on.

The next paragraph got a little more personal where it said that I tended to perceive things in the whole while ignoring the details.  Netbook was now telling me that I was not very thorough.  I was beginning to feel indignant.  Next it said that I was emotional in my learning rather than logical and I inherently process material randomly.  “Inherently,” doesn’t sound good; it makes it seem like I have no control over that. 

Rather than organize or plan you attack materials voraciously.  It seems inefficient, but it serves you well.

Thanks for the assessment, Netbook.  This coming from a machine that takes five minutes to boot up and freezes if I run Microsoft Word while downloading the myriad of Internet Explorer patches. 

But he knew he was getting me mad so he threw in a half-hearted complement, "You can be a lyrical and fascinating speaker, if at times difficult to follow."  Yeah, okay so, what, are you following me around all day, Netbook?  While I may be prone to unusual or neurotic behavior, I certainly don’t sit there orating to my computer.  At least I don’t think I do.

He was setting me up for the fall.  He blindsided me with the next paragraph. 

You are disorganized and have piles of stuff lying everywhere.  Unfortunately you have a hard time relocating things unless you verbally state to yourself where you are putting something and then remind yourself what you are looking for when you need it.

Okay now wait just a gosh-darn-minute.  I am not disorganized.  But then I started wondering if Netbook has hidden cameras that I don’t know about.  The truth is that I have piles of files and loose papers all over the computer room.  I imagine that Netbook is a little upset that I come in and mess up his room everyday. 

In the next paragraph he said that “the antagonism between your right-brain and your auditory mode can lead others to consider you flaky.”  Now I was getting even more paranoid; I wondered what other people say about me behind my back.  Just as I am getting ready to squash his micro-processor with a sledge-hammer, Netbook dispenses a piece of advice that probably saved his silicon-based soul.  He said, “The danger that you face is perhaps being too casual in your cognition and sufficiently directed to complete projects or to meet expectations.” 

Then I realized he was right.  Netbook was trying a bit of tough love to get me to re-focus my efforts.  I am trying to set too many plates spinning on top of those long bamboo sticks like the jugglers you see in the circus.  The problem is that without sufficient momentum, they will all fall.  The point is to get one plate spinning with sufficient momentum so that it can go on its own with little additional effort from me.  Then you go on to the next plate to start spinning it.

So instead of committing deadly and violent laptop homicide, I gave my silicon-buddy a hug and decided I would try to reign in my efforts a little bit and concentrate on one project at a time.

Netbook, I love you Man!