When I was in college I did a final project about creativity. As research, I asked every student in the elementary school to list all the ways they could think of to use a cardboard box. Some kids struggled to name a few, while others reeled off ideas faster than I could transcribe. 

"Put shoes in it."

"Put books in it."

"Ride it down the hill."

"Make a puppet theater."

"Shred it to make bedding for a hamster."

"Draw beautiful scenery on it for a play."

"Hide in it when your mom wants you to do chores."

The experience of peeking into the imaginations of 364 children was fascinating. The way I analyzed it was based on a book by Edward de Bono, who coined the phrase Lateral thinking. I looked for shifts in category (storage vs art canvas), unusual suggestions (use it to cushion your baby brother when he rides behind you in a wagon) and sheer volume. (two kids had over two hundred ideas) It was absolutely riveting. 

And boring. 

We are talking about me sitting in the hallway of the school where I now teach, collecting data, with a desk and paper. One by one each child in every grade came out to answer a litany of questions, including the one about boxes. Another was to describe what was happening in a picture of an elfish creature looking into a pond, and what the consequences would be if the clouds had strings that hung down to earth. 

It took time. 

At any given moment I could not really sense the bigger picture. Sure this kid is scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas, and I am hungry, but keep listening. Help him feel safe. 

There was no prize for doing this. I simply said thank you. In fact it was before any laws were in place about parental permission, so I sent no information home. 

But I learned things that shaped the rest of my life. 

The other day a friend said that her husband's reactions, good, bad or indifferent, were just data. I pondered this even as her mouth kept moving on to other equally provoking comments. 

Just data. 

What would it be like if I could simply collect data, like a paleontologist on site, or a curious child at a museum, without enormous amounts of emotion globbed on like chocolate syrup?

"How about that. John went to the far corner of the house rather than talk to me."

"I hear that he has strong opinions about Ben leaving the freezer door open."

It is challenging, if not impossible, to see the big picture while I am still in the thick of life. But maybe in twenty years when I am looking back the fog will clear and I might see a pattern. 

For now I will keep my pencil sharp.