I like having a goal, and I like to learn. The reason I started my degree is so I wouldn't be aimless and miserable, waiting for my children to bugger off to school so I could get a new job (as well as needing a degree to get into the work I want to do). For the first time in nearly 18 months, I have no uni work, no TMA or exam date looming. My two modules don't start until 5th October. This is AGES away. I mean, it will fly by, especially once my eldest starts school after summer, but currently, I am BORED.
So, I've signed up to about twelve OpenLearn courses. OpenLearn provides a unit or so of an actual OU module for free, for you to work through at your leisure - either to get an idea of what kind of modules you want to sign up for, or just for something to do. These are good, but not particularly engaging. There's no real interaction with others, and I don't get the sense that I'm learning when I do them. Maybe that's because I'm comparing it to regular OU study, I don't know.
I read about Coursera in a magazine, probably the Radio Times, but I can't remember. The founder was interviewed about her vision for free education. I checked out Coursera and discovered an array of free courses, that run at different times. You can pay for accreditation on some courses (Signature Track), and get formal university recognition, but the majority of courses are totally free. Most available courses run between 6 and 12 weeks. All courses run from universities, and are written and led by professors within them. There are courses on all manner of things: law, healthcare, epidemiology, food science, architecture, anatomy, media, computing, maths, music and history all have courses starting soon.
I immediately signed up for a six week course on mental health in society, which began on 24th June. I started this on 1st July, which gave me two days to catch up on the first week and send my first assignment in.
Each week of my course has a two hour lecture, broken up into chunks. The lectures are a combination of video, slideshows and audio. Additional reading is provided free of charge. There is a small assignment every week or two, with a TINY wordcount - max 500 words for an essay I'd norrmally write 1200 for - and assignments are peer-marked. I haven't had a go at peer marking yet, but the guidelines look fairly simple. There are myriad forums to discuss content on, and due to the diversity of students, discuss national differences in mental health care.The tutor for this particular course is engaging and passionate about her subject, and easy to understand. I run the lectures with the subtitles on, as I often have hideous amounts of background noise to contend with, and the subtitles are not always correct. As it's a free course, I don't mind, and frequently OU transcripts are not as accurate as they could be. In any case, transcripts of the lecture and copies of the slides are separately available for reference.
I think Coursera is a brilliantly executed idea. It does not care who you are, what previous experience you have, where you live, runs courses in numerous different languages and is truly egalitarian. The actual content seems (based on my limited experience) to be good quality and well presented. It is much better quality than some higher education paid-for services (DCA Home Learning springs to mind). As it's so accessible, persuading friends to start the same courses so you have a study partner shouldn't be too difficult - I managed it!
If you want something to do in your spare time, find learning addictive or want to have a go at university level work, this is the site for you. It's going to keep me busy this summer- once I've done this course, I'm starting a second on social psychology. Enjoy!
www.coursera.org
Showing posts with label openlearn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label openlearn. Show all posts
4 Jul 2013
5 Jan 2012
Nurture, nature, both, or neither?
What makes us who we are? That's the question of the last part of my mini-psychology course. I had an argument/debate/ramble with my atheist boyfriend about the existence of souls on boxing day. I know - we REALLY know how to live. I believe we (and all animals) have souls, he believes we are a combination of nurture and nature.
I have my two little boys. I saw them the moment they drew breath (well, slightly after that moment with my little, as he was all tangled up behind me) and looked into their eyes. An endless depth of blue and intelligence and humanity. A newborns eyes are not blank, there is something there. Someone.
You would expect two children, of the same parentage, born merely two years and five weeks apart, to be similar infants. But within hours, their personalities were taking shape. My younger baby is what we like to call 'zen'. From birth, he was happy to sit back and watch the world go by. As he's growing up, he's changing all the time, but he remains fundamentally laid back. My eldest has always been much harder to please. From the moment, aged 16 hours old, he decided he'd had enough of sleeping and wished to eat, he has been demanding my attention. These slight differences in babies were apparent within 24 hours of delivery. How much of that can be blamed on me, as their mother and single common factor?
Of course, I had two wildly different pregnancies. With Child 1, I was sick from conception. I was paranoid, bled frequently, spent most of my time analysing every single kick and twinge and gave birth, after a lengthy pre-labour, pretty much bang on time. With Child 2, I didn't feel particularly pregnant apart from brief hyperemesis in the first trimester and once his father had buggered, I didn't give a crap what was going on most of the time. He eventually emerged, two weeks late, without much fuss. Perhaps my maternal negligence contributed to his easy going nature. Perhaps my first-baby paranoia contributed to my eldest's demanding ways.
Perhaps it's that they have different combinations of me and their dad's personality. I am fairly laid back, it takes a long time to wind me up enough to snap, but when I do it's volcanic and I hold a grudge. Their dad is constantly on the very edge of flying off the handle. His temper is short enough to be considered non existant, but doesn't last and then is forgotten. I am happy just to sit, where their dad has to be on the go at all time. I certainly see aspects of both our personalities reflected in the children. But they are far from mere shadows of their parents. They are themselves and nothing less.
I worry about, and actively fight against, the stigma and emotional issues of coming from a broken home. There will be awkward questions asked, for which we have to try and get the answers right to stop them thinking it was ever their fault. And me and their father need to work together to try and stay stable. I've made it a point of honour to never fight with him in front of them, to never badmouth him in front of them, and to act like the whole situation is normal. I hate it when parents being divorced is used as an excuse for unacceptable behaviour. It is too easy, when divorcing, to become more childish than the children involved. Too easy to become petty, for it to all become a game of one-upmanship and taunts and vicious verbal swipes.
Not on my watch.
I'm very conscious of two things currently. One is that my eldest's surgery was postponed to the 13th of January. That is a mere 7 and a half days now. The second is that my OU course starts in 30 days. For my next preparatory trick, I'm going to poke a stick at a module on psychology in the 21st century. I'm considering doing a few psychology/neurology related units to top my degree up (in about four years, I don't know WHY I'm thinking about it now). But we shall see. It does not do to think too far ahead.
I have my two little boys. I saw them the moment they drew breath (well, slightly after that moment with my little, as he was all tangled up behind me) and looked into their eyes. An endless depth of blue and intelligence and humanity. A newborns eyes are not blank, there is something there. Someone.
You would expect two children, of the same parentage, born merely two years and five weeks apart, to be similar infants. But within hours, their personalities were taking shape. My younger baby is what we like to call 'zen'. From birth, he was happy to sit back and watch the world go by. As he's growing up, he's changing all the time, but he remains fundamentally laid back. My eldest has always been much harder to please. From the moment, aged 16 hours old, he decided he'd had enough of sleeping and wished to eat, he has been demanding my attention. These slight differences in babies were apparent within 24 hours of delivery. How much of that can be blamed on me, as their mother and single common factor?
Of course, I had two wildly different pregnancies. With Child 1, I was sick from conception. I was paranoid, bled frequently, spent most of my time analysing every single kick and twinge and gave birth, after a lengthy pre-labour, pretty much bang on time. With Child 2, I didn't feel particularly pregnant apart from brief hyperemesis in the first trimester and once his father had buggered, I didn't give a crap what was going on most of the time. He eventually emerged, two weeks late, without much fuss. Perhaps my maternal negligence contributed to his easy going nature. Perhaps my first-baby paranoia contributed to my eldest's demanding ways.
Perhaps it's that they have different combinations of me and their dad's personality. I am fairly laid back, it takes a long time to wind me up enough to snap, but when I do it's volcanic and I hold a grudge. Their dad is constantly on the very edge of flying off the handle. His temper is short enough to be considered non existant, but doesn't last and then is forgotten. I am happy just to sit, where their dad has to be on the go at all time. I certainly see aspects of both our personalities reflected in the children. But they are far from mere shadows of their parents. They are themselves and nothing less.
I worry about, and actively fight against, the stigma and emotional issues of coming from a broken home. There will be awkward questions asked, for which we have to try and get the answers right to stop them thinking it was ever their fault. And me and their father need to work together to try and stay stable. I've made it a point of honour to never fight with him in front of them, to never badmouth him in front of them, and to act like the whole situation is normal. I hate it when parents being divorced is used as an excuse for unacceptable behaviour. It is too easy, when divorcing, to become more childish than the children involved. Too easy to become petty, for it to all become a game of one-upmanship and taunts and vicious verbal swipes.
Not on my watch.
I'm very conscious of two things currently. One is that my eldest's surgery was postponed to the 13th of January. That is a mere 7 and a half days now. The second is that my OU course starts in 30 days. For my next preparatory trick, I'm going to poke a stick at a module on psychology in the 21st century. I'm considering doing a few psychology/neurology related units to top my degree up (in about four years, I don't know WHY I'm thinking about it now). But we shall see. It does not do to think too far ahead.
29 Dec 2011
Groups
I was a skater boy.
Ha! In my dreams!
I spent most of the time between the ages of 15 and 22 wishing that I could skate. Alas, I have neither the balance nor skill to stand on a wheeled board and whizz around town, let alone make the thing jump and flip. I have spent my life since the age of 22 wishing that I could do free running.
I am 26. I have had two children. I weigh...too much, according to my BMI and indeed, clothing size. I will never be a free runner.
But it is with the skate scene that I have always most strongly identified. I wore the big, baggy jeans, the skate trainers, the band shirts. I still do, most of the time, though my jeans have become more fitted at the waist and my shirts less immense. I used to bleach my (already fair) hair regularly, until one day it went horribly wrong, and I dyed it bright purple to cover up the...greyness. This left me with a pinkish tinge for about six months and put me off dying my hair. I did recently dye it bright red. It looks awesome, but damn it's high maintenance. I will never be as scene as I used to be. This should be a blessing.
At school, I knew everyone, had very few real friends and a whole LEGION of bullies. I had that sort of face, you know - an ugly one. I grew into it eventually, but it took til I was about 16 for most boys to recognise that I was actually a woman, by which time I was in my DOOMED relationship with my future husband. I put my faith in computer games and books. Still do.
It wasn't until I met my future husband's peer group (and thus, him) that I found myself fitting in at all. I had two lives for a time, half with my exciting, punkrock boyfriend and company, half with my intensely academic schoolfriends. Then I ditched school at 17, and gave myself wholeheartedly to the skate scene and accompanying music. It was the first adult decision I ever made.
I still sit, from time to time, belting out Strung Out and Lagwagon, wishing that I could keep putting on gigs, meeting people from across the country, feeling part of my social group to the extent that I was the heart of it. Instead, I bring up my two kids, read far too much, cook and spend evenings looking at psychology courses on openlearn. Which is what I'm doing this evening, reading about how we classify ourselves into 'us' and 'them'.
As a teen, 'we' were the skaters, the misunderstood, the heroic and the artless. 'They' were literally everyone else. Parents, chavs, goths, adults, disapproving, accusing, wanting us to change, never understanding that to do so would be to deny ourselves.
Now, 'we' are the mothers, the homemakers, the people bedding into lives that we like to believe are solid and then crack open at a moment's notice. 'They' are the free, unshackled by children, by bills, responsibility and obligation.
Sometimes, I pity the teenaged for their lack of experience, and insight. Mainly I miss being that age myself, with the freedom and opportunity to do exactly what I wanted without fear of what might be.
I'm only 26. I feel twice that.
Ha! In my dreams!
I spent most of the time between the ages of 15 and 22 wishing that I could skate. Alas, I have neither the balance nor skill to stand on a wheeled board and whizz around town, let alone make the thing jump and flip. I have spent my life since the age of 22 wishing that I could do free running.
I am 26. I have had two children. I weigh...too much, according to my BMI and indeed, clothing size. I will never be a free runner.
But it is with the skate scene that I have always most strongly identified. I wore the big, baggy jeans, the skate trainers, the band shirts. I still do, most of the time, though my jeans have become more fitted at the waist and my shirts less immense. I used to bleach my (already fair) hair regularly, until one day it went horribly wrong, and I dyed it bright purple to cover up the...greyness. This left me with a pinkish tinge for about six months and put me off dying my hair. I did recently dye it bright red. It looks awesome, but damn it's high maintenance. I will never be as scene as I used to be. This should be a blessing.
At school, I knew everyone, had very few real friends and a whole LEGION of bullies. I had that sort of face, you know - an ugly one. I grew into it eventually, but it took til I was about 16 for most boys to recognise that I was actually a woman, by which time I was in my DOOMED relationship with my future husband. I put my faith in computer games and books. Still do.
It wasn't until I met my future husband's peer group (and thus, him) that I found myself fitting in at all. I had two lives for a time, half with my exciting, punkrock boyfriend and company, half with my intensely academic schoolfriends. Then I ditched school at 17, and gave myself wholeheartedly to the skate scene and accompanying music. It was the first adult decision I ever made.
I still sit, from time to time, belting out Strung Out and Lagwagon, wishing that I could keep putting on gigs, meeting people from across the country, feeling part of my social group to the extent that I was the heart of it. Instead, I bring up my two kids, read far too much, cook and spend evenings looking at psychology courses on openlearn. Which is what I'm doing this evening, reading about how we classify ourselves into 'us' and 'them'.
As a teen, 'we' were the skaters, the misunderstood, the heroic and the artless. 'They' were literally everyone else. Parents, chavs, goths, adults, disapproving, accusing, wanting us to change, never understanding that to do so would be to deny ourselves.
Now, 'we' are the mothers, the homemakers, the people bedding into lives that we like to believe are solid and then crack open at a moment's notice. 'They' are the free, unshackled by children, by bills, responsibility and obligation.
Sometimes, I pity the teenaged for their lack of experience, and insight. Mainly I miss being that age myself, with the freedom and opportunity to do exactly what I wanted without fear of what might be.
I'm only 26. I feel twice that.
3 Oct 2011
Breaking up is hard to do
Why do some couples stay together, and others fall apart?
I DON'T KNOW, OPEN UNIVERSITY. WHY ARE YOU TAUNTING ME IN THIS FASHION?
Ahem. The fact is, I know why me and my ex failed. A lack of communication. I wanted to settle down, be a family, raise my kids and do the whole 'grown up' thing. My ex was not. Not even close. He wasn't ready to stop being the focus of my attention, couldn't understand why I needed to give my time to my child/ren instead. We never properly discussed it, just tried to batter each others square peg into our own round hole. No innuendo intended.
Then, I finally got pregnant again and I think he saw that we'd be getting worse and ran the fuck away to someone who was more willing to be devoted to him. It's very narcissistic, although you could argue that so is reproduction. You like yourself so much, you play god and produce someone in your own image, then fight them until they're adults to try and make them just like you.
The truth is, with me and my ex, that we could've loved each other to the death, but neither of us would have been happy. We suffocated each other. We could've stayed together for the kids, but they would have had to witness our combustion on a weekly basis. It'll have been a year next week, a year in which I have moved away, become financially independant and had our second child. It's been a very rough, painful year.
It was like an amputation to start with; I felt like there was part of me missing, an empty hole where he'd been. And, as with an amputation, I felt the itch there all the time. It was like he was dead, because the man I married had gone completely. I didn't know him anymore, it was so disorientating. I couldn't rid myself of all the 'what ifs' and they do you no good at all.
Now? We still see each other regularly, because of the children, and we don't fight. We don't even argue. I'm not bitter - what's the point? I have my beautiful little boys, and they are reward enough. I know what not to do next time, I know what behaviour to watch out for in a partner.
And I know who I am now. I'm not just someone's other half, not just someone's mother, not just a cook and dishwasher. I'm me, and I quite like me.
I DON'T KNOW, OPEN UNIVERSITY. WHY ARE YOU TAUNTING ME IN THIS FASHION?
Ahem. The fact is, I know why me and my ex failed. A lack of communication. I wanted to settle down, be a family, raise my kids and do the whole 'grown up' thing. My ex was not. Not even close. He wasn't ready to stop being the focus of my attention, couldn't understand why I needed to give my time to my child/ren instead. We never properly discussed it, just tried to batter each others square peg into our own round hole. No innuendo intended.
Then, I finally got pregnant again and I think he saw that we'd be getting worse and ran the fuck away to someone who was more willing to be devoted to him. It's very narcissistic, although you could argue that so is reproduction. You like yourself so much, you play god and produce someone in your own image, then fight them until they're adults to try and make them just like you.
The truth is, with me and my ex, that we could've loved each other to the death, but neither of us would have been happy. We suffocated each other. We could've stayed together for the kids, but they would have had to witness our combustion on a weekly basis. It'll have been a year next week, a year in which I have moved away, become financially independant and had our second child. It's been a very rough, painful year.
It was like an amputation to start with; I felt like there was part of me missing, an empty hole where he'd been. And, as with an amputation, I felt the itch there all the time. It was like he was dead, because the man I married had gone completely. I didn't know him anymore, it was so disorientating. I couldn't rid myself of all the 'what ifs' and they do you no good at all.
Now? We still see each other regularly, because of the children, and we don't fight. We don't even argue. I'm not bitter - what's the point? I have my beautiful little boys, and they are reward enough. I know what not to do next time, I know what behaviour to watch out for in a partner.
And I know who I am now. I'm not just someone's other half, not just someone's mother, not just a cook and dishwasher. I'm me, and I quite like me.
16 Sept 2011
Rules of attraction
Adult relationships. That's the latest part of my pyschology intro course. Ugh.
My history either points to me knowing FAR TOO MUCH about the natural lifecycle of an adult relationship or NOTHING, because I have failed. I am Getting Divorced. I have known the happiest day of my life and watched it fall apart, all for a lack of communication. I saw this unit coming up slowly and didn't know whether to dread or anticipate.
According to this, a relationship requires attraction, and attraction stems from similarity, proximity and physical appearance.
Now, proximity. I have had two significant relationships in my life, including my marriage. Both have started long distance. Now, my marriage started in a bar in Boston. We had mutual friends, who owed us a blind date favour. We were thrown together. There was attraction, and a vast amount of adolescent lust. My more recent relationship stemmed from going to the same school, but the courtship occured primarily online. Ah the internet. Is there nothing it cannot do? So I have flouted the conventions of finding the familiar more attractive.
Similarity. Well, that's obvious enough. If you share no interests, no common thread, what do you talk about? Music tied me to my husband, and a similarly puerile sense of humour. Other than that, we had some fiery disagreement and since we were young, pretended interest in each other's hobbies to get along better. My boyfriend and I have practically everything in common, except religion and politics (which must never be discussed between friends). Similarity should equal a self-esteem boost, reducing the process of attraction to something of an ego-trip.
The most obvious basis of attraction is physical attraction. It's not ESSENTIAL, but it damn well helps. Apparently, men think women want financial security and women think men want sex. Me, I like security of a different kind. I like to know my partner won't bugger off with another woman. Maybe men interpret that as "I will be faithful to you, but if I'm not, I will buy you off handsomely".
Oh, I'm sorry, I'm doing that bitter thing again. Ahem.
Sexual attraction is all interlinked to fertility. A woman is most attractive (and possibly most viciously hormonal) when ovulating. She is also at her randy best. The human body is amazing at optimising fertility. Men, being fertile at all times, don't experience such fluctuations. LUCKY MEN. Apparently, men are attracted to women with a waist measurement that is approximately 80% of their hip measurement. Also, skinniness is only prized in cultures where food is not difficult to obtain. Suntanned skin is allegedly becoming unattractive due to the connotations of skin cancer. I knew my day would come again. Pale win!
We seek mates of similar attractiveness to ourselves. Idealism has little place in a long term relationship.
To summarise, your ideal mate is probably the guy you've been working with for two years, who always makes you laugh, who has pretty eyes and who shares your cultural references. Go on, ask him for a drink.
My history either points to me knowing FAR TOO MUCH about the natural lifecycle of an adult relationship or NOTHING, because I have failed. I am Getting Divorced. I have known the happiest day of my life and watched it fall apart, all for a lack of communication. I saw this unit coming up slowly and didn't know whether to dread or anticipate.
According to this, a relationship requires attraction, and attraction stems from similarity, proximity and physical appearance.
Now, proximity. I have had two significant relationships in my life, including my marriage. Both have started long distance. Now, my marriage started in a bar in Boston. We had mutual friends, who owed us a blind date favour. We were thrown together. There was attraction, and a vast amount of adolescent lust. My more recent relationship stemmed from going to the same school, but the courtship occured primarily online. Ah the internet. Is there nothing it cannot do? So I have flouted the conventions of finding the familiar more attractive.
Similarity. Well, that's obvious enough. If you share no interests, no common thread, what do you talk about? Music tied me to my husband, and a similarly puerile sense of humour. Other than that, we had some fiery disagreement and since we were young, pretended interest in each other's hobbies to get along better. My boyfriend and I have practically everything in common, except religion and politics (which must never be discussed between friends). Similarity should equal a self-esteem boost, reducing the process of attraction to something of an ego-trip.
The most obvious basis of attraction is physical attraction. It's not ESSENTIAL, but it damn well helps. Apparently, men think women want financial security and women think men want sex. Me, I like security of a different kind. I like to know my partner won't bugger off with another woman. Maybe men interpret that as "I will be faithful to you, but if I'm not, I will buy you off handsomely".
Oh, I'm sorry, I'm doing that bitter thing again. Ahem.
Sexual attraction is all interlinked to fertility. A woman is most attractive (and possibly most viciously hormonal) when ovulating. She is also at her randy best. The human body is amazing at optimising fertility. Men, being fertile at all times, don't experience such fluctuations. LUCKY MEN. Apparently, men are attracted to women with a waist measurement that is approximately 80% of their hip measurement. Also, skinniness is only prized in cultures where food is not difficult to obtain. Suntanned skin is allegedly becoming unattractive due to the connotations of skin cancer. I knew my day would come again. Pale win!
We seek mates of similar attractiveness to ourselves. Idealism has little place in a long term relationship.
To summarise, your ideal mate is probably the guy you've been working with for two years, who always makes you laugh, who has pretty eyes and who shares your cultural references. Go on, ask him for a drink.
14 Sept 2011
Conceptual memory and schemas
Evidently, our minds hold information more readily if it's split into categories. The example given in the course is a random list of words, which are remembered more easily if you already know that the words fall under one of four categories, of which you are given the names.
Schemas follow on from this, as your mind forms and then stores information into categories (schemata), as you go along.
My mind is a maverick and refuses to conform to this ideal of conceptual memory. I have a massive knowledge of medical terminology, primarily because I understand the latin prefixes, roots and suffixes, but also because I picture the body part or procedure when I am remembering the word. Colonostomy? Mmm, bag in the colon! Rhinoplasty? Change that nose!
I once remembered the entire skeletal system by re-learning the old "Knee bone connected to the thigh bone" song with the proper words in place of knee bone. My ability to name almost anything in terminology gets annoying - ask my boyfriend.
No. Not like that.
I've always had trouble learning things systematically. Taking the terminology idea, you're SUPPOSED to learn it by body system. Therefore, all the bones and fractures are learned under the skeletal system etc. When I've done courses on terminology, and given courses on terminology, this is how I've learnt/taught it, but it's not how I hold the information myself. My memory of it is far less specific and visualised.
So, I have a visual memory. I suppose that's good to know.
Schemas follow on from this, as your mind forms and then stores information into categories (schemata), as you go along.
My mind is a maverick and refuses to conform to this ideal of conceptual memory. I have a massive knowledge of medical terminology, primarily because I understand the latin prefixes, roots and suffixes, but also because I picture the body part or procedure when I am remembering the word. Colonostomy? Mmm, bag in the colon! Rhinoplasty? Change that nose!
I once remembered the entire skeletal system by re-learning the old "Knee bone connected to the thigh bone" song with the proper words in place of knee bone. My ability to name almost anything in terminology gets annoying - ask my boyfriend.
No. Not like that.
I've always had trouble learning things systematically. Taking the terminology idea, you're SUPPOSED to learn it by body system. Therefore, all the bones and fractures are learned under the skeletal system etc. When I've done courses on terminology, and given courses on terminology, this is how I've learnt/taught it, but it's not how I hold the information myself. My memory of it is far less specific and visualised.
So, I have a visual memory. I suppose that's good to know.
13 Sept 2011
Improving memory
I have always been something of an adoring Derren Brown fan, since Trick Of The Mind was first shown when I was a teenager. It may all be sorcery and witchcraft, but he's mesmerising. I gobbled up both his mainstream books, having little interest in the practical aspects of magic. One thing that really stood out for me was the memory technique of linking things to remember with strong visual images. It was the basis of the more complicated memory palace, as described in Hannibal by Thomas Harris - at the time, one of my favourite books - only, I couldn't think of a single practical application for such a technique.
Last night, while idly working my way through another unit on the psychology course, the same memory technique was recounted, with an exercise to remember a shopping list. It gave the list of visuals to produce, so I quietly sat and thought about them, then utterly forgot about re-testing myself later on and dragged my exhausted hide to bed.
For some reason, the exercise came to mind again this afternoon. I have no idea why, I was just sitting watching Waybuloo with my boys, and I thought "Hmm, wonder if I can remember that list".
And I could. I remembered every single item on it, vividly. From opening the door with a banana handle, to a tap that poured chocolate instead of water; that list was imprinted on my memory by the simple act of thinking about some images.
If only I could actually apply it to real life, I might be able to implement it some way to benefit myself. As recounted earlier, my memory is pretty shocking. There are whole years of my adult life that consist of nothing more than wisps of fragmented memories wafting about my brain, lacking any cohesion. One of the only ways I recall many events is by the detailed diaries I've kept over the years. Where there's no diary, there's no memory. If I could adapt my memory into a more visual experience, I might actually retain information.
Huzzah!
Last night, while idly working my way through another unit on the psychology course, the same memory technique was recounted, with an exercise to remember a shopping list. It gave the list of visuals to produce, so I quietly sat and thought about them, then utterly forgot about re-testing myself later on and dragged my exhausted hide to bed.
For some reason, the exercise came to mind again this afternoon. I have no idea why, I was just sitting watching Waybuloo with my boys, and I thought "Hmm, wonder if I can remember that list".
And I could. I remembered every single item on it, vividly. From opening the door with a banana handle, to a tap that poured chocolate instead of water; that list was imprinted on my memory by the simple act of thinking about some images.
If only I could actually apply it to real life, I might be able to implement it some way to benefit myself. As recounted earlier, my memory is pretty shocking. There are whole years of my adult life that consist of nothing more than wisps of fragmented memories wafting about my brain, lacking any cohesion. One of the only ways I recall many events is by the detailed diaries I've kept over the years. Where there's no diary, there's no memory. If I could adapt my memory into a more visual experience, I might actually retain information.
Huzzah!
12 Sept 2011
How to think
I need to learn to think again.
When you have small children, your mind takes on a new routine. Mine centres around mealtimes, and how long til the next one. With breastfeeding a small, times between feeds are BUSY, feeding time is a nice sitdown in front of the TV. Feeding a toddler is more "how long do I have to entertain this demanding child before I can get on with the next meal?". Out of the twain, babies are definitely easier. Such is the joy of domestic drudgery, that I struggle to find the time to think of anything other than my children or basic housework/personal hygiene that needs taking care of.
This situation is exacerbated by being single. Sometimes, I go several days without having any face to face interaction with another adult. Watching Cbeebies all day drains me of any coherant thought. "Ah, Show Me Show Me...today we are learning about opposites. Oh good, I'm a little shaky on those now".
Also, memory loss. There is something about birth that mindwipes all that has gone before. I cannot remember being childless, even though it was less than three years ago. I cannot remember only having one child, even though that was less than five months ago! I cannot remember what it's like to be in a full time work routine, what I did to fill the hours, how I wasted all the free, childless time. Now my only childless time is about twenty minutes before I go to bed, when they are slumbering. But even that time is spent with me constantly on the alert, wondering which one will wake up first.
All this is not conducive to thinking.
So, to break me in, as aforementioned, I'm doing some courses on the OpenLearn part of the OU site. These are free short(ish) courses on various subjects at various difficulty levels, with no credits available. I've started with a course called Starting With Psychology. It has absolutely nothing directly to do with Health and Social Care, but it's something that I've always found interesting. It's supposed to be eight hours long, but I'm an hour in and up to the third part (of six). So far, I've learnt about dividing the corpus callosum, and now I'm on memory and memory improvement. Now, THAT might be useful!
When you have small children, your mind takes on a new routine. Mine centres around mealtimes, and how long til the next one. With breastfeeding a small, times between feeds are BUSY, feeding time is a nice sitdown in front of the TV. Feeding a toddler is more "how long do I have to entertain this demanding child before I can get on with the next meal?". Out of the twain, babies are definitely easier. Such is the joy of domestic drudgery, that I struggle to find the time to think of anything other than my children or basic housework/personal hygiene that needs taking care of.
This situation is exacerbated by being single. Sometimes, I go several days without having any face to face interaction with another adult. Watching Cbeebies all day drains me of any coherant thought. "Ah, Show Me Show Me...today we are learning about opposites. Oh good, I'm a little shaky on those now".
Also, memory loss. There is something about birth that mindwipes all that has gone before. I cannot remember being childless, even though it was less than three years ago. I cannot remember only having one child, even though that was less than five months ago! I cannot remember what it's like to be in a full time work routine, what I did to fill the hours, how I wasted all the free, childless time. Now my only childless time is about twenty minutes before I go to bed, when they are slumbering. But even that time is spent with me constantly on the alert, wondering which one will wake up first.
All this is not conducive to thinking.
So, to break me in, as aforementioned, I'm doing some courses on the OpenLearn part of the OU site. These are free short(ish) courses on various subjects at various difficulty levels, with no credits available. I've started with a course called Starting With Psychology. It has absolutely nothing directly to do with Health and Social Care, but it's something that I've always found interesting. It's supposed to be eight hours long, but I'm an hour in and up to the third part (of six). So far, I've learnt about dividing the corpus callosum, and now I'm on memory and memory improvement. Now, THAT might be useful!
11 Sept 2011
Preparation (I may have bitten off more than I can chew)
Initially, I was jut going to do K101 - An Introduction To Health and Social Care, and see how it went. My financial application arrived and I sent it off merrily. I got accepted onto the course, all was well.
But then I had delusions of grandeur and convinced myself to try for a BSc in Health and Social Care. Erk. Erk. Erk.
So, my course begins on 4th February. I have already obtained my textbooks from a lovely friend who did the same course a few years ago. I now need to get a desktop computer and printer. Oh, and pretty stationery. I have a lust for matching, beautiful stationery. And a desk. Oh, and a computer chair. I moved house three months ago and actually have a dedicated library/study in my spare bedroom. It's purple. So, I must create an optimal working space. Any excuse...
And academically speaking, I need to make an effort to prepare my brain. I have a toddler and a four month old son. For most of the last year, I have been pregnant or being woken up in the night for MILK. I've lost my ability to concentrate fully, to sit and read a book for a length of time, to write properly, to absorb information. 'Tis the lot of any new mother, but being single as well has exacerbated it since my every waking moment and most of my sleeping moments, revolve around a demanding toddler and a little baby. My ex doesn't yet have my baby because he's exclusively breastfed. However, come February, he should be having my toddler regularly overnight and my baby for days out. So, I shall have suitable time to learn.
However, I haven't done any independant studying for so long that I need to break myself back in. So I'm doing a few OpenLearn courses to make me think. I'm also trying to read more. Since I had my youngest, I've probably read one new book. I've mainly been re-reading non challenging fare. I need to get back into the habit of reading and absorbing.
I want to do well. Since my personal life failed so tragically last year, I feel the need to prove myself in other fields. I should add that I do have a rather splendid, supportive boyfriend, but he lives many miles away.
I have major wibbles about once a week, which is absurd because I have five months to panic madly and I have demonised this to such an extent that it cannot possibly be that bad!
But then I had delusions of grandeur and convinced myself to try for a BSc in Health and Social Care. Erk. Erk. Erk.
So, my course begins on 4th February. I have already obtained my textbooks from a lovely friend who did the same course a few years ago. I now need to get a desktop computer and printer. Oh, and pretty stationery. I have a lust for matching, beautiful stationery. And a desk. Oh, and a computer chair. I moved house three months ago and actually have a dedicated library/study in my spare bedroom. It's purple. So, I must create an optimal working space. Any excuse...
And academically speaking, I need to make an effort to prepare my brain. I have a toddler and a four month old son. For most of the last year, I have been pregnant or being woken up in the night for MILK. I've lost my ability to concentrate fully, to sit and read a book for a length of time, to write properly, to absorb information. 'Tis the lot of any new mother, but being single as well has exacerbated it since my every waking moment and most of my sleeping moments, revolve around a demanding toddler and a little baby. My ex doesn't yet have my baby because he's exclusively breastfed. However, come February, he should be having my toddler regularly overnight and my baby for days out. So, I shall have suitable time to learn.
However, I haven't done any independant studying for so long that I need to break myself back in. So I'm doing a few OpenLearn courses to make me think. I'm also trying to read more. Since I had my youngest, I've probably read one new book. I've mainly been re-reading non challenging fare. I need to get back into the habit of reading and absorbing.
I want to do well. Since my personal life failed so tragically last year, I feel the need to prove myself in other fields. I should add that I do have a rather splendid, supportive boyfriend, but he lives many miles away.
I have major wibbles about once a week, which is absurd because I have five months to panic madly and I have demonised this to such an extent that it cannot possibly be that bad!
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