Absolutely orange. Completely!

Thoughts on wonder, learning, and the delicious freedom of being a novice

Saturday morning, walking to the pancake stall with a basket in hand, we stop and look down to brilliantly coloured leaves on the bricked pavement. I pause and admire the colours, then continue on my way. I think I’ll get the classic cinnamon and sugar — two of them. My sister stops for longer as she must get a closer look. She bends down to pick up a spectacularly bright one, mesmerised by its clementine hue. “Look! It’s absolutely orange. Completely!” Dazzling, I believe is how she described it.

I am fascinated by many things, much of them seemingly mundane. But the sheer joy I saw from my sister as she discovered the absolutely orange leaf was so pure and so warm, I can’t get it out of my head. I am writing prose about it, I’ve envisioned book covers, film posters, poems, with “absolutely orange. Completely!” strewn across them. I guess I fixate on simple things. I am moved by them. There is so much beauty and wonder in the mundane that it’s easy to brush away and move on to the next thing, like the promise of a hot pancake.

One of the many libraries at Berkeley, where I spent a lot of time feeling like a novice in every sense of the word.

I talk about how I never want to stop learning and, really, I’m learning every day. But learning intentionally, learning for the sake of learning, is something I would like to do more. As a learning designer, I have become accustomed to problem-solving, crafting learning journeys, and prioritising the needs of the learner over all else. Learning designers strategise roadmaps for the novice to eventually reach mastery. For a novice, really, the stakes are incredibly low. The learning process comes with expectations and desired outcomes, but I see it as fundamentally different to the learning journey. The journey is what it is — a journey. It can change like the tide with twists and turns, dips and peaks, stops and starts, and a most definite beginning. I say the stakes are low because they should be. As a novice, armed with your own experiences and tools, you are faced with the unknown, and the freedom to explore. Tempting, no?

As a novice in many respects myself, I want to remain curious, mesmerised, dazzled, moved, and hungry to learn more. I want to stop and look and think and feel at the sight of the sublime autumn leaves. Look! They’re absolutely orange. Completely!