Build a Bridge

Abstract

“Sometimes organization/and computation become absurd” (Barks et al. 1995).

How could Rumi, the great 13^th-century Persian poet who lived in what is now Afghanistan or Tajikistan, discount so casually, in one line, the value of organization and computation? Organization and computation (which is a form of organization) are amazingly powerful tools for investigating the world. Without these tools, it would be nigh impossible to collect and compile meaningful data, evaluate the results of experiments, or communicate scientific results to others. The contents of our yellow Rite-in-the-Rain notebooks—or now, more likely, entries in our tablets and laptops, from probes and data loggers—would consist of a series of jumbled, useless words, numbers, and random sketches. Was Rumi wrong? Are conditions now that different than they were 800 years ago, such that organization and computation were less important then than they are now? For this Viewpoint, I suggest yes and no.

First, the no: Rumi was not right. Organization and computation are not absurd. We depend critically on organization and computation every day in science, and we will depend on them even more in the future. We use them to understand the physical world—and these two tools have served us well. Scientifically and technologically, we are light-years ahead of where we used to be. But Rumi was right, too. We are human, and with respect to the central core of being human, we thrive on curiosity, intuition, hope, and beauty. These needs can be overshadowed as we rumble about collecting and interpreting data using organization, computation, and new technological tools. Core human features have not changed much since Rumi's days. We breathe now, like we did then, and our blood moves through arteries and veins, just like it did then. We still feed on curiosity, intuition, hope, and beauty. But for these things, we do not depend on organization or computation. Rather, we need to tap a sense of elation about being in the world—about being a part of the world. It is just the “sometimes” word that Rumi used in the leading quote that makes all the difference between yes, and no.

Elation can be beaten down by frustration, and we frequently get double doses of frustration on a daily basis. Are you annoyed, because you have trouble properly ground-truthing your LiDAR data set? Frustrated, because your acoustic Doppler current profiler is giving you only wonky data? Depressed, because the National Science Foundation just turned down your latest proposal? Being able to get back to the basic core of being human can be no small task: it means setting aside problems, at least briefly, and being able to resonate with more fundamentally human aspects of yourself. Yes, it can be difficult, but you have a choice. You can stew in frustrations, or you can build and maintain a bridge between your organizational/computational side and your creative/intuitive side. It is important for life-balance reasons to be able to do the latter. But how?

Poetry is a bridge one can use for this purpose: it can allow you to connect your logical, rational mind to your emotional, intuitive mind. A one minute read of Mary Oliver's poem, “Why I Wake Early,” will show you the truth in this assertion (Oliver 2004). This poem can be freely accessed online. Try it.