Waiting at a train or a subway station feels very different if you are in an unfamiliar city, traveling for example. I was thinking this as I got a bit stuck in transit. I was on my way home after dropping off my daughter in daycare. And I remembered the first months after moving to Berlin: the city still unfamiliar, as well as the language; trains and busses still something new — not as a concept, but as this specific country’s variety. I paid more attention to how things were written, even more as I didn’t fully understand their meaning. A lot of little daily things that I hardly ever notice today, I watched and watched back then. The signs, the typography, the green text in the wagons showing the next station and an arrow to advise on which side the platform would be… The same way my kid now notices and gets excited when we are on a new train, how the upholstering in the train car is different, and how this train is unlike the older ones in the little details. It is only when we travel and encounter new things, we are able to revive the sense of wonder and puzzlement that we had as kids.

Another thought is about childhood. Looking back, we underestimate how confused we were as kids. We remember the sense of wonder and joy and surprise. But we forget the endless confusion, puzzlement and the necessity to rely on a trusted adult to figure things out. The trusted adult who is not going to pay attention to the minute details, but will make sure that we are safe in navigating the city, or any environment.

Growing used to the place, we stop noticing, we stop looking. Not a bad thing. But one needs a sense of novelty every now and again. Maybe this is the sense that we can find in ourselves — using our old environments in a new way, doing something different in them. If we are still on the topic of being in transit, you can get on a bus or ride a bike instead. And that will be new. You can pick up a new activity, and it will bring you a sense of having potential, which means seeing fresh, being something new that you haven’t been before. There is always a measure to the amount of comfort and certain numbness to the environment we want to have, maybe to focus on the inside of us rather than the outside; and equally, there is a level of wonder and looking with fresh eyes that life wants.

Dividing people into subtypes based on their dominant perception — auditory, visual, and tactile — has always felt a little wrong to me. Sometimes, kinesthetic is added into the mix. This subdivision is often applied to learning styles. Do you learn better when you look, listen, write (or is it doodle? take notes?) or do things by hand? (See EducationPlanner as an example.)

I thought of myself as mostly auditory; maybe because I liked music, I was a DJ, and I wanted to be in touch with my hearing/listening perception. But then, who isn’t a visual type? We all perceive information better when presented in a diagram or with similar visual aids, than when listening to it — in numbers, especially. And touch. Isn’t touch important to me? Oh, it is, no doubt about it.

So, by attributing yourself to one of the senses, you’re robbing yourself of everything else. We are multi-faceted. Everything is important. It is unnecessarily limiting to stick to what you think is right for you, without exploring other things that could be equally or more beneficial. This attribution to one of the senses is supposed to be a hack, and instead, it does not benefit you. You don’t learn faster, better and stronger by focusing only on one type of skill or one sort of exercise. You can’t train just one muscle. You can’t learn a language by only learning grammar, or not learning grammar, for that matter. You have to, and you inevitably will, engage all senses that are available to you.

As I’m googling the subject more, I find articles, including this one from American Psychological Association, debunking the myth of learning styles:

“Previous research has shown that the learning styles model can undermine education in many ways. Educators spend time and money tailoring lessons to certain learning styles for different students even though all students would benefit from learning through various methods.”

As much as our brain loves categories and simplifications, we should not be depriving ourselves of a broader outlook. There is no simple hack: do this, and get the ultimate result. You have to do this, and this, and that.