Last Friday evening, Maala and I sat at the counter of a Sushi restaurant, waiting for her take-out order, when she started asking me questions. Some were easy and rhetorical, like “Where was Sushi invented?” Others were tougher: “Where was boba tea invented?” And some, existential: “What is Space—like, the universe—inside of?”
One of the many things I’ve come to love about being a parent is seeing the world through your kid’s eyes. Their sense of wonder helps you pay closer attention to what’s going on around you. It’s only when you’re asked a question like, ‘When were clothes invented?’ that you realize how interesting ordinary things really are. My daughter’s innocent curiosity has become a welcome reminder of all the silly questions I no longer ask and the absurdities I no longer consider. It’s one of the trade-offs for growing up. Slowly, and then suddenly, life gets serious and the days become a blur of things that need doing—appointments, work, errands, bills, chores, commitments, and variations of other obligations. Time for playful thinking evaporates like mist amid the daily demands. With that in mind, I’m sharing a few stories this week about the value of playful thinking, wasted time, and doodling around.
Doodle your way through it
In July, The Rolling Stones released their 27th studio album, Foreign Tongues. Over six decades, they’ve performed over 2,200 concerts, released 400+ songs, toured 48 times, and become a billion-dollar global brand in the process. After doing it for as long as they have, and with all the corporate machinery surrounding the band, I’d expect few moments, if any, when they get to mess around, play for fun, and just get lost in a tune. But “that’s what you do when you’re writing,” said Mick Jagger in a recent interview. “You’re just doodling,” he said. “That’s how songs get made. While your mind is free and you’re having fun with it, I think that’s the most interesting part of the process… If you’re playful, you can just let your mind go this way or that. And don’t be worried if nothing happens. Something will happen later. Or tomorrow.”
Sniff around the problem
The Copy Book is one of my favorite books in my library. It features the work of 50+ leading copywriters, along with their advice on how to write, think, and be creative. In advertising circles, it’s considered one of the best resources for creative copywriting. I was flicking through it the other day and stopped on James Lowther’s section. Lowther has enjoyed a long career at the top of the advertising industry. He was the creative director behind some of Australia’s most iconic campaigns, including XXXX Lager, Schweppes, and other brands. Lowther distills his creative process into 10 simple rules, my favorite of which is: Relax.
In a time-crunched world where there’s a persistent pressure to produce more work faster, Lowther’s advice is to step away and seek inspiration outside the frame of the problem. And, despite the high stakes of modern work, not to take it so seriously. “Sit back and sniff around the problem,” he writes. “Have fun, tell stories or jokes around the subject. That way you might come at the problem from an unexpected angle.”
Make time for lollygagging
Not long ago I read Bob Odenkirk’s memoir Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama. It covers his career from a sketch comedy writer in Chicago to lead actor in major films and TV series today. Odenkirk’s story is really about two things: His dogged commitment to his craft—there’s a story shared by his long-time writing partner, David Cross, where he recalls how Odenkirk spent four days writing a sketch, only to cut everything except one line of dialogue, which he then rewrote the entire sketch around. And persistence: “Just keep making new things in spite of every no,” he writes in the book. If you look at Odenkirk’s IMDb, you’ll see this work ethic on display. He has over 200 credits as a writer, actor, and producer. But this work ethic put him in the hospital in 2021 when he had a near-fatal heart attack while shooting the final season of Better Call Saul. When asked what he learned from the experience, he shared a story from when he was four years old, walking two blocks home from school, when his grandmother saw him. “She called my mom and asked, ‘Does he ever make it home?’” he says. “Because I was poking something with a stick, and walking one step and another step and then looking at a rock.”
Odenkirk refers to this as “lollygagging,” and he says it’s something we lose as we become adults. “It’s a shame,” he says in the interview. “You cannot lose that dimension of lollygagging. That is a crucial dimension of life, of living on Earth… There’s joy in it—there’s probably a lot of feelings in it, not always upbeat—but it’s just that taking in the world that you should be doing a little in your week… You’re not really living if all you’re doing is racing around getting shit made or done.”
Later…
Later that Friday evening, I lay next to Maala, reading while she nestled in for sleep. A few minutes after we said goodnight, she rolled back over to face me and lifted her eye mask up.
“Daddy?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“What would happen if we didn’t have skin?”
I put down my magazine and looked up at the ceiling.
“That’s a really good question,” I said. “I’ll think about it.”
And I did.
That’s all for this week. Thanks for reading. I’m working toward a regular cadence of publishing every week or two. I haven’t gotten there yet, but I’m always hopeful, so maybe you’ll hear from me again next week.
This ‘Short Thoughts’ format is something I’m testing to see if it helps me write and publish faster than a typical essay. The jury’s still out, but I’d love your feedback. Let me know whether you’re enjoying these types of posts and whether they're resonating.
If you want to catch up on Short Thoughts 1, you can do so here: ST1: The Strange Phenomenon of New Ideas.