Luckily, a small community ski area called East Hill was just five minutes from my house. Nestled beside an elementary school of the same name, it had about 100 feet of vertical drop, a rope tow without handles, and a perpetually idle T-bar. The hill was open nights and weekends and staffed entirely by volunteers from the Camillus Winter Sports Association.
I remember working on my book and catching myself mid-paragraph. I'd just finished a sentence that felt particularly satisfying to write and paused to ask: Why does this feel so good? The answer wasn't flattering. What I'd written sounded smart, but it wasn't clear. I realized I'd been unconsciously filtering ideas through "does this make me look clever?" instead of "will this help the reader?"
The truth? Your brain doesn't learn best by going in straight lines. It learns more when it has to switch contexts and jump tracks. That's where the interleaving method comes in. Instead of cramming a single subject until it's dull, you mix topics-like hitting shuffle instead of repeat. It feels harder in the moment, but it's exactly that mental juggling that cements knowledge for the long haul.
"Nothing...can sharpen the historian's mind like defeat." - Eric Hobsbawm, reflecting the value of learning from defeats and how many intellectuals have enriched our understanding from their own failures.
Innovation requires continual learning and clarity in processes. Without a clear understanding of how various learning activities connect, teams may face confusion that hinders effective innovation.
The study revealed that neurons assigned to a memory trace reorganized their connections through an atypical type of connection called a multi-synaptic bouton, which may enable cellular flexibility.
It's funny how these things stay ingrained in our brains. They seem so random, even insignificant, yet there they are. I've forgotten many of the chemistry lessons, mathematical equations, and historical facts that moved in and out of my brain like conveyor belt sushi.