The Walter Cornell Theory of Observation as It Applies to Pablo Neruda

I have a story for everything. Just ask anyone who knows me. I've been telling stories since I was little...perhaps that's why I've been a writer most of my life.

The tricky part about stories is that you have to remember them in order to tell them. I do that by naming the small moments and minutia after people. For example, Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" will always be known as the "Norman Kraft Song." Norman was the first boy who ever asked me to dance...to "Stairway to Heaven," of course. When I write, I often use the "JKL Method of Writing," named after my high school English teacher, who impressed upon his students the importance of good and well-organized writing. (My sister, as a matter of fact, now teaches the "JKL Method of Writing" to her students!)

These names help me capture the essence of the story, filing them away neatly for use sometime later. Like "The Walter Cornell Theory of Observation."

There are two parts to the "The Walter Cornell Theory of Observation" story. The first often gets included in the "How I Started My Own Business" story, in the Assistance Usually Comes with a Price Tag chapter. The second, and by far the more interesting part, is the "Theory of Observation" story.

"The Walter Cornell Theory of Observation" story goes like this. Walter was talking about the importance of paying attention to things. "Look around the room," he said, "and count all of the things that are blue." And so I did. "Now, he asked, "how many are brown?" I had no idea how many were brown, because I'd been paying attention to blue.

I often think about "The Walter Cornell Theory of Observation" when something begins to appear in my observations with alarming regularity. You know what I'm talking about, right? You overhear someone talking about puffins, and the next thing you know, they're all over the place--an Animal Planet special, the cover of the magazine you happened to pick up, the bumper sticker on the car in front of you. An invasion of puffins!

The funny thing is, the puffins were probably there all along. You've just been paying attention to them more because they're right there, at the front of your brain, center stage in your consciousness. You see them because, like blue, you were paying attention to them.

Paying attention to...Pablo Neruda. A while ago, I read Sue Monk Kidd's book The Mermaid Chair. In the opening pages appeared a quote by Pablo Neruda:

I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire;
I love you as one loves certain dark thing,
Secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

His words were so beautiful, I used them in a collage I was working on at the time. "I love you...secretly, between the shadow and the soul." Who was this Pablo Neruda?

Turns out, Pablo Neruda is a Nobel Prize winning poet from Chile. "You know, I've always wanted to learn Spanish," offered a friend of mine without prompting, "so I can read Pablo Neruda's original poems." There he was again.

"Movies You'll Love," read the Netflix button. At the top of the list? Il Postino, in which "Mario Ruoppolo (Massimo Troisi), the mailman on an Italian island, pines from afar for a beautiful waitress. When exiled Chilean poet Pablo Neruda (Philippe Noiret) comes to live on the island...."

And then, last week...I was wandering around the library, looking for inspiration. I stepped aside for a woman to pass me, turned around, and there--at eye level: Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda.

Like Walter's request, I had taken the time to pay attention. I allowed space for the suggestion to roam around in my brain for a while. And in return? Perfect words for a collage, an interesting conversation with a friend, a good movie, and a book of poetry I can't put down.

Paying attention is critical for a writer. You never know where those small moments will lead you, what you'll discover along the way, and where the story might go from there.