Productive Week

It has been a good week work-wise. Last weekend I was a bit under the weather and wondering whether I had too much on my plate. I was slightly worried about some deadlines I had this week, but , fortunately, I was able to make them all comfortably. What helped was that I lowered my standards a little bit. I have written before about how I feel unsatisfied unless a piece of writing feels full to me.
Last weekend, I was told that I am perfectionist, which is took me by surprise. I have always seen myself as a laid-back person,but I am really not. And, I am a perfectionist when it comes to writing. So, this week I decide to ease up a bit. And, I managed to produce satisfactory work without too much stress. Writing and research can take a lot out of you, so maybe it is important to keep some perspective. Nothing you write is likely going to be earth-shattering and most people won't be able to tell the difference between what you consider your good work and great work. So why sweat about it?

Rain Rain

When it rains, it really pelts. The weather has not been very kind these past days. It doesn't help when  we are still trying to get used to the shorter days and cycling home in the dark. Yesterday, I stayed in and worked from home because I would have been drenched had I stepped outside. It was too rainy to cycle to uni and really don't like taking the bus. As I had a yoga class in the evening, I decided that that would be my outing for the day. I have learned that it is important to get out of the house at least once a day in autumn/winter to keep the blues away. Sure enough, I started feeling hedged in by the walls of the house by evening, and was glad to get out for my yoga class.
However, today was no better and tomorrow promises to be worse. I got absolutely soaked on my way in to uni today. There wasn't an inch of me that wasn't wet and I had to dry my hair under the hand dryer.
Well, this heavy rain isn't going to last forever and I will get used to the shorter days. It is just a matter of sticking it out, which is the solution to many problems in life. 

Shorter Days

Its been more than a week since the clocks went back but I am still getting used to the time change. What I miss most is the twilight hours before nightfall, since I am at work as dusk sets in. Till a few weeks ago, I enjoyed an after-work cup of tea while lounged on the sofa in the sitting room, watching the light fade. Sitting in complete darkness is not bad, but it doesn't put me in the pensive mood that the fading light does. The fading light frames objects in a mesmerizing monochromatic hue. I do enjoy doing yoga in complete darkness, but sitting on the sofa in the dark is not that relaxing.
My main dilemma is what time to return from work. If I leave work after 5 I have to cycle through two parks in compete darkness while keeping my eyes peeled for unlit pedestrians (Such is the life of cyclists. In summer we live in fear of running over dogs, and, in winter, of dashing into pedestrians. Cars, of course, are an around-the-year hazard). If I leave work early, I feel like I haven't done enough in the day. And, the question of how to spend the long evening looms. Since yoga and cooking on the day are my only evening occupations, there is a lot of time to fill. 

INFJ

I took a personality test after much prodding from my housemate, and it turns out I am an INFJ, as she had  predicted. I have always been suspicious of boxes, maintaining that what's outside boxes is much more interesting than what is in them. But, I  must admit that I possess many of the features of an INFJ, which, it turns out, is the rarest category. It doesn't hurt that the picture of INFJ's is quite flattering. They are described as that rare combination of dreamers and doers, who are empathetic, eloquent and crave deep connection. Other descriptors are soft-spoken but with strong opinions, decisive and strong-willed but not motivated by personal gain. Apparently, INFJs are also sensitive and should make sure they take care of themselves.
The points that don't apply to me are ease of making connections with others and  a warm and friendly nature which makes them desirable to the opposite (or same) sex.
I look at it as an interesting thought experiment. I have always thought of myself as different from most people, and it is reassuring to know that there are others like me. We are not alone in our loneliness.

Do Unto Others

I apologize in advance for the moralizing tone and content of this post. They say do unto others as you would have them do unto you. But is that the best guide for our actions in all cases? Different people have different boundaries and just because you would be okay, or even enjoy, being treated in a certain way, doesn't give you the license to treat others in that way.
It is difficult to always be conscious of one's actions and words, especially when interacting with dear ones. In fact, what makes the company of dear ones so comforting is that one need not always filter one's thoughts and actions in their presence. One need not bother what they think about you because you are confident of their affections. So, it is easy to slip into familiar patterns of behavior with them. But, such behaviour can often cause pain and make them feel disrespected.
Often our behaviour is unconsciously guided by deep emotions that a person rouses in us. For instance, suppose we harbour a long unacknowledged grudge, or are secretly in love with someone, our behaviour towards them is influenced by these emotions. But, I have to come believe that the emotions another person rouses in us are ultimately our responsibility. We cannot blame them for it if they are unaware of this fact. And, if we have a choice whether to continue interacting with them and we choose to do so, they deserve to be treated with respect and kindness (if we don't have a choice, the situation becomes much more complicated, and is a subject matter for another post).  And, if treating them with respect and kindness requires tedious changes in behaviour, so be it.  

Elixir of Life

I am reading Frankenstein by  Mary Shelley for the book club meeting tomorrow. Apparently, the book, written in the first half of the 19th century pioneered the genre of science fiction and I am sure I will have more to say tomorrow after the book club meeting as many of our members are science fiction afficionados. I aways thought of myself  as being averse to science fiction but the discipline of a book club has pushed me to broaden my horizons.
The book is remarkably ahead of its times as far as its insights on the philosophy of science are concerned.It deals with one of the fundamental puzzles of the physical sciences--what gives life? This is not my area of research and clueless about the contemporary thinking on this matter. All I know is matter is made up of organic and inorganic materials (elements or compounds). Organic compounds are hydrocarbons and all living things are made up of these. But, what animates these compounds or what animates the cells that makes up these compounds? Is the animation a spontaneous chemical reaction that occurs when the write elements are brought together in the right combinations under the right conditions? Are we nothing but a gazillion chemical reactions? And in that case, is it possible to create life by bringing the right compounds together under the right conditions? Not just grow cells, but make new cells? Where does cellular DNA come into it?

Writing

This week I turned in two pieces of writing that I wasn't satisfied with. Both were competent pieces of work but they didn't feel "whole" to me. I always try to turn in work that feels complete to me, at least at that point in time. It is a difficult feeling to describe--it is the feeling of having done justice to the work, of having  produced something that can stand on its own feet in your opinion, at least for some time. I am no great writer or thinker, but the feeling of fullness before I turn in something has always been important for me. Yesterday, while talking to a colleague, I talked about how I wasn't ready to "set it free" as I still had more work to do on it. I guess what I mean is a piece feels complete when I feel like I have nothing more to say.
Maybe I am take my writing too seriously. Maybe most people wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a "full" work and another, and might even prefer the latter. But, turning something in when you feel like you haven't said all you want to say can be quite a unsatisfying experience. This holds true for all kinds of writing, including blog posts.