Have you ever tried transposing something about yourself just for the heck of it? You know, change the sequence of doing things—how you start your day after waking up, for example, or the order in which you do your chores, or in which pocket you drop your pocketknife? Little things.
You might be surprised how interrupting your routines can enliven your perspective. Forcing your brain to re-engage with your motor skills to perform what had become automatic tasks can be insightful. Hey, the knife rides OK in that pocket, too!
Music offers the best example of transposition and its impact on our senses. When listening to a piece of music, it can be exhilarating to hear the composer or arranger seamlessly move the melody up or down a key. The tune is unchanged but is bumped to a different level on the musical staff. The new pitch tickles the nervous system in a delightful way.
Transposing is so subtle it doesn’t actually qualify as “change.” Same song, different key. Same knife, different pocket. It is the mere repositioning of something familiar, not a replacement of it. Change is a whole other thing.
So, a midweek challenge for you: Transpose something small and ordinary about yourself. Instead of nodding to the stranger you encounter at the entranceway to CostCo, say, “Good morning.” If saying hello is what you ordinarily do, raise your hand in greeting instead. Two minutes later, your world will not be one whit different—but the other person’s might be if he or she needed your extra dollop of recognition.
When an author crafts a story, the characters in it are totally subservient to the writer’s imagination. They live or die, exult or despair as the writer dictates. In the real world, we also disturb the universe when we lay our eyes upon someone, thereby connecting with another person and triggering something.
Think not? Consider this: If you walk up to some guy you don’t know and slug him, the reaction will be verbal and physical, right? Whereas if you walk up to him and silently sneer, he might wonder about you but otherwise probably won’t react. But look through him as you pass—sullenly ignore his very existence—and he conceivably could walk away questioning his worth as a human being.
That’s the power of human interaction and we exercise it in every relationship we have each day, no matter how momentary. It is mostly an ephemeral experience—though, in the moment, to one party or the other, it can feel like much more.
Of course, if you are a creature of habit, you probably don’t want to try this. You might experience something fresh and new. Horrors.
But if you are curious, transpose your daily routines just a tiny bit and open the door to all kinds of possibilities. Do it frequently and you might even end up transforming—or fundamentally changing—yourself. You’ll have jumped the staff and become a whole new song.