On the brain

When Jeremy and I are having a discussion about something--like an idea, or a book, or a current event, or yardwork, or parenting, or the best way to stack dishes in a cupboard, or whatever--I usually have lots to say and work hard to get all of my words out right up front. I may change my mind later based on a new argument or additional information, but I have very little trouble offering a full and reasoned opinion.

Jeremy, on the other hand, is much more reflective than I am up front, and it's important to him to understand everything that's happening before offering an opinion. This makes him a great active listener, since he is willing to absorb everything I have to say before offering an opinion. This also makes our conversations occasionally frustrating, since sometimes I just want him to spit something out already, regardless of whether he has all the right sources and information lined up in his mind.

A few years ago, we had a funny discussion about the way each of us thinks and communicates, and we came up with extremely vivid mental images of the way each of our minds works. See if you can see what we see:

Jeremy's mind is a sparse, gray room (he says it's shaped like an octagon). He says there's a single, unadorned window on one wall, and all of the walls are lined with dozens of steel filing cabinets with multiple drawers. In the center of the room, not far from the window, a single Jeremy sits in a rolling office chair behind a tall, spartan desk (think the security desk at the BYU library, if that helps you). Several neat stacks of paper sit on the desk, and the little Jeremy is always productively organizing and arranging these stacks, preparing them for their appropriate place in the filing cabinets. If the "real" Jeremy needs information for a discussion, an idea, or a piece of writing, the little mind Jeremy taps the stacks on his desk and walks over to the right filing cabinet. Carefully and deliberately, the little Jeremy flicks through the file folders until he finds what he's looking for, at which point he transmits the knowledge to the "real" Jeremy, who is then able to convey the information to the appropriate venue. The little Jeremy then walks back to his desk, where he resumes organizing his neat stacks of paper.

My mind, on the other hand, is a busy, colorful room lined with bookcases and several tables. There is always music playing, the many windows are always open to a beautiful breeze. Fresh flowers and plants liven up the atmosphere, and there's always a feeling of happy yet driven purpose. My mind requires several little Rachels--probably three--to get all of the necessary information to me. Instead of filing cabinets, my information is stored in the books on the shelves and in many cluttered stacks of paper that seem disorderly, but the little Rachels know just where everything is. If I'm in a situation where I need to get information, each of the little Rachels has a specific job. One of them is in charge of relaying "funny filler," in case I need to keep people laughing while the other little Rachels are scurrying around trying to find everything else I need. The other two Rachels typically find the same information, but one of them feeds it to me softly and one of them shoves it into my brain, just in case I need to slam the hammer down in a more competitive conversation. Either way, they are all very busy but happy in their flower-and-book-filled chaos.

To put your own minds at ease, neither Jeremy nor I actually hears voices, but we did get a kick out of trying to describe visually what goes on in our minds, especially since the respective pictures we drew ended up conveying so much about ourselves--or at least what we want to believe about ourselves.

So now the question is, How does your mind work?