Intellectual Conversations

 I usually enjoy intellectual conversations, but there was something off about the one I had on the mett-up walk yesterday. At first, I thought it was because I have lost a great deal of intellectual confidence since I started my PhD. And, then, I remembered my time with Shyam in the US. The mark of an intellectual conversation is you are too absorbed in it to think about your pride or whether you are appearing smart. I think it was because we had a minor argument before we had properly established a rapport. I can get a bit aggressive when arguing without meaning to and though I have grown more conscious of that over the years, I suppose some of the aggression lingers. I remember on the US trip when Shyam and I were having a heated and perfectly good-natured argument, the others in the car thought we were rowing. But, without a rapport you don't know if the other person is holding on to their position out of pride or out of genuine belief, and being human, you tend to assume the former. 

Friendships After Covid

The past two years have been, at best, weird, and worst, horrifying for everyone, I said to a friend who was apologizing for not being very present. She ascribes her behaviour to being in a relationship that she now recognizes was extremely toxic. I had noticed that she had become bit of stranger. We did not break off all contact but when we spoke it felt like I was talking to a different person. But since she lives across the Atlantic, and given what was happening, I thought that was understandable. At the time, I was going through a rough patch with one of my closest friends in the UK, which was taking up all my reserves of anger and animosity. But, today for the first time, this other friend sounded like the person I knew. She is someone who played a big role during my troubles, and I hope I have offered her some support. In any case, I am glad to have her back in my life. 

Brandon Hill In the Dark

 This evening, after a date that ended a bit sooner than I expected, I tramped up to Brandon Hill, one of the first places I visited when I Bristol six years ago and still my favourite place in the city. This is not a post about my life in Bristol. I will save that for another day when I am feeling less sleepy. This is a darkness and solitude appreciation post. The street lights had been switched off atop Brandon hill, possibly to save electricity. That also kept many people away I suppose. Tonight wasn't as peaceful as my night walks on Scheveningen beach, But, it was the closest since then. For some people, finding companionship or company is the cure for loneliness. For others, solitude is the cure. I think I belong to the second category. 

Accepting Apologies

The most important people skill is the ability to say that you are sorry. A less important skill is the ability to accept compliments. Between the two, is the ability to accept apologies. What comes in the way of accepting apologies? It could be anger that is not easily quelled. But, it could also be guilt for seeking an apology. It could also be surprise that a sought apology was easily offered. Today, an office mate poked fun at me in front of one of his students. I didn't retaliate, even though I am sure he wouldn't have minded. I just don't think academics should poke fun at each other to get a laugh out of their students. 

Pride in My Students

 Today, I received word that some of my seminar students had won a prize in a group video challenge. The prize is not a big deal and my only contribution to their victory was nominating them as the best entry from my seminar group. That was not a heard decision either as they were head and shoulders above everyone else. But I still felt very proud of them.  Maybe I have reached an age where I can feel paternally towards 18-year-olds. But, to feel pride in someone else's achievements that is undiluted by indifference or envy is a buoyant feeling. 

Housemate Drama

 Today's post was always going be about housing, but its now what I thought it would be up till about an hour ago. My stoner housemate sent an email sent an email asking me and the other Indian to make less noise in the morning. To be fair to him, it was as polite as he could manage. He has been the bane of my existence since even before Betty moved out, and I often think this house would be much more liveable if not for him. But, this post is not about the various ways in which he menaces me. I replied to his email as courteously as I could, committing to be quieter in the mornings, while requesting him to be quieter in the night. What I wasn't prepared for is the other Indian's response. I had imagined him to be a deep sleeper who isn't disturbed by the pothead talking loudly on the phone and stomping up and down the stairs at night. But this dude didn't hold back. He told the stoner that he was often woken up by a cacophony in the middle of the night. Its such a relief to know that I am not the only one who finds him annoying. 

Hold On and Wait

 I saw a tweet today which struck a chord. It read There was a stage this year when I thought I would never have another funny or strange story to tell because life was so hard and I thought nothing could be magical again and life, she really surprises you, you just have to hold on and wait sometimes'. Hold on and Wait. In a previous post I had asked if there is any better advice about life than ride the waves and cling on during troughs. In the past few weeks, months and years, I have repeatedly tormented myself about what I should do differently to make life more manageable? Lower my standards when it comes to new houses, whether to go off or on dating apps, what I should be doing about my shoulder, my career prospects, etc. And, yet, I realise that what I probably need to do is hold on and wait. Wait and watch. To wait for the clouds to part, rather than try to pull them apart myself. Because the clouds will part, eventually, the sun will shine, this is the circle of life, everything is cyclical.

Sharing My Experience With Anxiety

 yesterday, I spoke with an acquaintance of a friend who is struggling with anxiety. My friend thought hearing my own experience of dealing with anxiety would help him. I sometimes forget what an achievement it is that I was able to submit a PhD that I am not satisfied. That a few years ago, there was no guarantee that I would continue with my PhD. I don't see it as a big achievement because the thought of quitting never once crossed my mind back then. But what if It had taken me longer to recover? "I took a year out of my PhD to deal with my health" sounds almost normal. But, I two or three years doesn't. Hearing stories of people who are still struggling with long Covid I feel very lucky. But, I should feel proud of myself. Yes, I had the support of friends, family and well-wishers and couldn't have done it without them. But, the prime mover in my recovery was me. I should remind myself of this achievement more often. 

Blogging Is A Habit

I miss blogging, and yet have struggled to get back into the habit. The experience of writing a PhD has left me quite diffident about my writing skills and my researching skills. Its been a while since anyone has praised my writing or my research, and anyone with a weaker tendency for overconfidence my have crumbled by now. But, the point is I miss blogging, I miss writing for pleasure, writing with an explicit purpose, writing that none else would likely read, but writing that is still out there in the world. Its like the difference between singing in an open field with no one around, and singing in your head. I nearly gave up blogging when I realised how personal my blog had become, how I had slowly shed my inhibitions, turning the blog from a chronicle of my musings into a personal diary. I was uncomfortable with how much I had potentially exposed myself to the world. I am still trying to figure this conundrum out, but I am determined to keep blogging. Its a salve for both my loneliness and my overthinking. There, I said the L world. I am someone who relishes solitude, but solitude is hard to find in Tory England. Well, it is what it is. All I know is I'm a happier person when I'm blogging, I am out of the PhD purgatory, and there is no reason not to blog. If someone stumbles and gets a view into my deep, dark mind, they are welcome to it. 

Housemate Travails

 My friends often tell me I should write a book about my housemates experiences. I am sure I have enough anecdotes for a book. As I keep telling people--I started out dreaming that I would live with friends, then I lowered my expectations to people who are clean, quiet and non-crazy, then just quite and not crazy, and now just not crazy. I am in the middle of another war at the moment, and its not pleasant. Something has changed after Long dengue and confrontation stresses me out no end. I realise that eventually he will move and I will move, and his exploits will just be a dinnertable story. But, the interim period is painful, and I have half-heartedly searching for places. The rental scene is not pretty.

PhD Submitted

 I submitted my PhD between classes on Monday, About five weeks ago, I realised that the end wouldn't be as I had imagined when I started. The past few weeks/months/years have been intense that there is so much to process, so much to ponder., that I don't know where to start. But, start I must. All the pressing won't happen through this blog. I gave up blogging late last year, when I realised my blog has become therapeutic writing and that I wouldn't be comfortable with strangers reading it because it offered too much of a window into me. and, then, my PhD consumed me, leaving little appetite or energy for any other form of writing. But, I miss writing, and I miss blogging so I am going to try to resume writing more regularly.