We do not often think about this, but the instruments we fashion to help us work, travel, survive heat and cold or communicate have essential common traits: the shape of our bodies and immediate surrounding and the shape of the economy. If our hands were clamps, the methods we devise for handling food, for instance, would be in direct relation to the shape and mobility of our clamps. Conceivably, our home furnishings would look quite a bit different if we lived underground or under water.

That we fashion the devices we use in our daily life after the shape of our surroundings is evidenced, rather interestingly, in the design of games. Consider “Twister”, for example, the game whereby a mat covered with large colored dots is placed on the floor and players must place hand or foot on a specific color. The design of the game was quite unusual and may not have occurred to the creator only a few years before its invention.

The extended family remained an important part of life well into the sixties and beyond. Family gatherings were common and commonly took place in the largest room: the kitchen. Twister was patented in 1966, at a time when suburban life was booming and families had moved these social gatherings from the kitchen to the living room or playroom. The advent of television, in the fifties, is believed to be partly responsible for this shift.

Only a few years earlier, the majority of American families still lived in very modest, small dwellings. The working class was not rich. The sixties are the era of the bungalow, the split-level and homes with a living room, family room or both. In a word, homes with legroom and couches facing the television set, rather than facing other chairs to accommodate the aunts and cousins. Twister requires floor space, a key ingredient to spark the idea for a game to be played on the floor. The configuration of homes and available living space at the time may very well have influenced the design of the game and the logistics of playing it - indeed, the possibility of playing it at all.

Now consider board games. Nearly all are four-sided and square. What is interesting about these is that most common kitchen tables are rectangular, which means that at least two of the four players might have further to reach to access game pieces. No problem. Simply take out the game table; the one used all along to play cards, checkers and chess. Board games are square out of habit, fashioned after checkers and chess games.

While checkers and chess are designed to be played by two players, the four-sided board game, though square, becomes a circular environment designed in such a way that four players can maneuver from a beginning point to an end point around the game surface. The instructions are easy for anyone to understand and follow, allowing the typical family to join in the fun and allowing children to play alongside adults at a time when the “nuclear family” was the new family model du jour.

Racetracks and Hot Wheels sets come to mind as other games of the sixties that required more space than the common home of the previous decade might have been able to accommodate. Interestingly, these were also more expensive games, another factor deeply connected to the economic landscape of the time.

The games of today are shaped by a different economic landscape, but also a much different emotional reality. Upon careful, though rather brief, analysis of the offerings on the shelves of merchants, one quickly realizes the emergence of a new pattern: The perceived need for abundance of choice. Most games are truly a variation on the theme of earlier games. Though they look different, and the game pieces vary, similar skills and nearly identical rules apply to many of them. What is interesting is that the designers of truly new game concepts have turned to intellectual themes, which is perfectly in line with this age of child-less couples, cocktail parties and reclusive bachelors.

If we did not so diligently record details of our society throughout the ages, what might a historian studying twentieth and twenty-first century games two thousand years from now conclude? Conceivably, he might draw conclusions regarding our home furnishings, size, and perhaps even the size of our families, but what of the change in the focus of games. For instance, Parcheesi is strictly a parkour game, while probe is rather more intellectual. Would he draw conclusions as to the levels of education at the time these games were played? How would this shape his portrayal of the people of these times?

The games we invent are designed based on our intellect, physical surroundings, economic situation and family models. Similarly, the theories we form about a society we have not experienced first hand are colored by our immediate experience and understanding of intellect, physical surroundings, economy and family models. When we find a stone that appears to be shaped as a knife, we can almost certainly determine whether it was shaped on purpose and for what purpose.

I image the historian somehow conversing with a prehistoric man, and casually showing him the stone and referring to it as a hunting tool. The prehistoric man raises his eyebrows and breaks in a giant uproar of laughter. After calming down, he informs the historian that the stone is in fact a game piece in a game that is strangely similar to our old Tip It!

Slainte!

Some people have a very acute sense of who they are and what they are meant to be doing. Switching direction is as matter-of-fact to them as turning a knob to open a door. Today, I met a confident, bright-eyed woman who is following her true calling. She studied law, but after only a short while working in this field realized it was not a path she wished to pursue for her entire life. She has been managing a gift shop for eight years. As she speaks of her work life and going to this colorful place every day, her gaze sharpens, and her entire countenance reveals one who is at peace and fulfilled.

It happens every day. Cops become signers, builders become poets, nurses become jewelers and actors become therapists. Accounts of such seemingly drastic changes in one’s career orientation often have one common thread: Though the direction is completely new, the steps taken to shift gear are usually free of struggle. Very minimal time is wasted on should's and if’s. One reaches a point where any internal argument or resistance is futile. There is nothing more to do but take action.

One might think that lack of the proper means or education could be reasonable obstacles to a career makeover. One might think that entourage, criticism, naysayers or just plain habit might be a deterrent. However, there comes a point where one’s integrity takes charge and gains momentum. In that particular state of mind, obstacles become markers that awaken the problem-solving, creative mind. When you know who you are and what you would love to do, it truly is like falling in love. Everything becomes vibrant with possibility, inspiration and joy. One becomes fearless and adventurous.

In the end, it is never about means or education. It is about passion. Passion is the ingredient that sparks the creative juices and leads one to find the means, the knowledge, the people and the opportunities to begin this new work. No great scientific discovery was ever possible without passion. In fact, I would venture to say that science is an offspring of passion, the passion for knowledge. So it is with a lawyer who turns to painting. The desire to know every bit of how it feels to apply pigment to the canvas and shape a scene with one’s own hand and eye is a scientific experiment in itself. It is the search for the accomplished work, that which materializes what was already known and had already taken shape in the mind.

Materialization, therefore, is the second ingredient on the path to recreating one’s work life. The curious mind begs to know “what will my idea look like once I shape it?” Once the idea for a new line of work or creative project comes to mind, once it takes hold and begins to germinate, it cannot be contained within the mind forever. It wants to venture out.

I like to experiment with new dinner recipes. Nothing fancy. Cooking is not one of my strong points and it did not take very long for me to discover that since I do not have a knack for it, if I venture to use an ingredient that was not originally listed, the resulting taste or texture may be rather disappointing. I think it is much the same with our life path. The right ingredients must exist, in the correct proportions, in order for the course we choose to unfold smoothly. We often mistakenly focus on fear and uncertainty as the main ingredients. This can turn passion and materialization into a very bad tasting mix. When we are in fear, we cannot see opportunities and creative ways to reach our goals. Being in fear is like repeatedly doubting that the loaf will come out right. We open the oven door and watch it collapse. How discouraging! We must stick to the recipe and leave fear on the shelf, to the very back of the shelf, out of sight, out of mind.

Slainte!

It is nearly two months since I was laid off from my five-year position as a records manager. In that moment, when I received notice, I braced for a difficult road ahead, a sort of post partum crisis I was not prepared for. No one is. How do you re-create yourself after five years of building a relationship with co-workers and developing a daily routine? How do you recover from the familiar? Interestingly, these were my first and foremost concerns, not the fact that regular paychecks would be a thing of the past for a while.

To my great surprise, within moments of being notified, I felt as though I had just been released from an assignment with no end, one I could not have parted from on my own because I did not have the courage to say enough is enough, because I do not believe in leaving unfinished business for others who already have so much on their own plate, because I thought this job was my identity. It was not. I was there by default. In the right place at the right time to be offered a great, challenging project with no end.

It never happened. Five years of consistent overtime, installing records management procedures, requesting corrections and reviewing completed documents, modifying forms, solving problems, database development, all vanished in the blink of an eye. One would think that this should be heart wrenching in some ways. It was, for an instant. In that instant, it washed away with the tears. I actually asked myself "What was that?" If I were to describe it visually, I would say that I stepped through a portal, from one story into the unknown, a magnificent and liberating unknown. As I say this, I imagine the swish sound of moving into another dimension, one that welcomes me. Had I been an intruder? Yes. Using my skills, definitely, but not consciously choosing the circumstances. I cannot reconnect with memories of this as I would with memories of a close friend or touching moment. It is not part of me. It is not me. I do not miss it; there is nothing to miss. It never happened because I had not brought my entire being into the situation. If some device could retrieve memories of the last five years from my brain, there would be a gap, a flat line.

I sit at my computer every morning, next to a large window with the sun pouring in, my dog on my lap, Roderick working on his own projects and going in and out, great music, nothing but my own destiny to look forward to, and it seems perfectly normal and in good order; just as it should be, just as it should have been, as though I had never left this moment. Perhaps I simply dozed off for a while and had a very complex dream, the sort you try to recall and convey to others, but the images vanish the moment you try and there is nothing left to say.

I recently encountered a fascinating person who has had an impressive career, a list of accomplishments ten miles long. He even holds patents. I was delighted, but for a moment, I felt small. There was someone with great ambition, who had lived his life fully, and was still doing so, and here I was, without a job, sitting at my computer, creating online profiles and developing a small business consulting service, doing artwork, reading, contributing what? However, because I am sitting here, exploring what comes next, I can also see clearly enough to know that I was not seeing clearly. This man is doing what he loves, what he wants to do, what he is good at, what he cannot help but do because it is part of his entire being. It simply pours forth from him and he follows his heart. Within moments, I realized I was right on track too, in my own way. I may never have a Masters Degree or life-long career, but I am learning to master my own life and I think the most important part of this is to realize and accept what we have to offer to the world, and go ahead and offer it. Not doing this is a great failure, far more than failing at a class or a business.

When I originally began creating an online profile, I soon realized that I felt compelled to present myself as the professional records manager, consultant, and businessperson. I created at least three profiles before I finally settled with this one. In spite of my experience, in spite of my skills as an organizer and manager, each time I focused on this I felt I was describing someone else, or rather missing out on the whole person. The artistic side came forth. In fact, it pushed forth, a small voice growing louder and claiming its place in the world. Yes, it is perfectly ok to be an artsy person too. After all, the more structured side, the business systems developer, is also a creative person. After all, if I am not me, then I must be a fake, someone without the integrity to be genuine. This is what struck me about this man's journey. It is the journey of a genuine person.

Do I believe I can live off my artwork and personal business? No. No in the sense that this is not how I want to live. I like spontaneity, not mass production. I like opportunities to unfold. I like the freedom to choose. I like a regular paycheck, a budget plan, automatic withdrawals from the bank account when the few bills we have are due, knowing that we can have a little roof over our heads, that I can always properly care for the little creature placed in my care, my dog Mathias. This is the structured side. It must be honored. It provides the grounds for the creative side to walk on, and on, and on.

I wonder if other people are discovering who they are as they design their webpage and online profiles. Are they describing who they are, only to discover that this is not really what they mean? Are they starting over, repeatedly, until they get it right, and then say, "Ha! That is so me. Why did I not see this before?" I feel like telling the psychologists and psychiatrists I used to work with that creating an online profile would be a great discovery tool for some of their clients. Who do you say you are when you have to announce it to the world? Look at the first draft. Can you honestly say this is me? Are you willing and able to play that part? If not, start over. Tell me, tell youself , tell the world about the real you. I have never felt so healed. Perhaps I have never been so healed.

Slainte!