Another Watershed Year Ends

One of my favourite books is titled The Watershed Year. I won't go into the details of the book except to say that a Watershed Year is the year in a person's life when everything changes. It refers to a fundamental change in a person's approach to their life, which may be precipitated by a crisis, but need not be. My actual watershed year was 2017, when existential issues that  had been bubbling under the surface of my personhood for decades burst forth, forcing me to address them. Confront them I did, and while it wasn't a short and easy process, I can confidently say that I am much more at peace with myself than I have ever been. But, while my approach to life changed in 2017 it was untested. I was worried that my new perspective was just a series of fictions I had told myself to alleviate my suffering, and that the bottom would fall out  again when I  returned to my studies in England. So, 2018 would be the year when my changed approach to life  would be put to the test. 
The bottom didn't fall out and I end the year much more confident than when I began it. I have been extraordinarily fortunate in some respects and unlucky in others. I experienced--in no particular order--crises of confidence, professional setbacks, professional successes, the fallout of a toxic relationship, loneliness, moments of heightened anxiety, romantic disappointment, the profound fulfillment that blogging regularly  brings. I lost a very dear friend, and made two others. But, I pulled through. The bottom didn't fall out, and it feels securely in place at the moment. My new perspective on life endured in 2018. Who knows what 2019 will bring?

Writing to a Word Limit

When it comes to writing projects, some people write their fill and then prune it to the specified word limit. I always write to a word limit and seldom have to prune to make sure I don't go over it. I also tend to be at the lower end of the word guidance rather than the higher end. Maybe its because I am not voluble as a person and that aspect of my personality permeates my writing as well. Or, it could be years as I spent as a wires reporter where we were taught that every word needs to justify its presence. My writing was recently described as "elegantly economic", a compliment which made me smile. 

But, does a word limit restrict one's ideas? Obviously, if its too small. I find word limits quite helpful because the more the words, the more I am supposed to think about a certain topic. When writing an essay, it helps to make your argument sharper and more concise. Generous word limits are an invitation for meandering and obfuscation. While grading essays this term, it was obvious that many students had struggled to come close to the word limit and had rambled to make up the shortfall. 

When there is no word limit specified I try to keep my work as short as possible. People seldom complain about having too little to read and are usually grateful. Even if your work is crap, they can come to that conclusion faster and also have the satisfaction of saying they went through the whole piece.

Nail Cycles

One can keep track of the passage of time by the changes in one's body. The obvious signs are hairfall (for many men, at least) and waist size. But, these are signs of inexorable decline are decidedly one-way. What about cycles? My toenail troubles haunt me every few years, so I suppose my toenails are contenders measuring phases and cycles in my life.
I had a nagging problem with ingrown toenails for months when I was around 17. Apart from being painful, it was annoying because I had to spend months with my toenails in different forms of bandages, all of which were required to be kept dry. The problems ended when I had surgery on both big toenails which involved removing the edges of the toenails from their beds. I was so exasperated that I had asked for the entire toenail to be removed from the root. But, the doctor replied that he wouldn't do that since I was unmarried. Apparently, shabby toenails are a deal breaker in the arranged marriage market.
My toenails didn't give me any trouble for the next 8-9 years. I remember I was playing with my nephews in my parent's home when I accidentally knocked one of my big toenails with my other foot. The impact pushed my toenail into a vertical position, a position change lubricated by not insignificant amounts of blood. Obviously, the toenail would have to come off, even though I was still unmarried at the time. I remember struggling to find a surgeon to do the job and eventually a part-timer was roped in.
No toenail trouble for the next few years, until the removed toenail started to grow back and refused to be well-behaved. It was the cause of a few painful weeks in Holland until I found a large toenail clipper to prune it back into shape. Four years later, that toenail is giving me trouble again. It has grown in such a way that it is impossible to prune and I am resigned to it being uprooted, accompanied by adequate amounts of blood and pain.
In the interim, it was the turn of my other more well-behaved toenail to act up. I was in a local train in Mumbai when someone stepped on it and pushed it out of its root. A few painful days followed and I got in touch with a surgeon friend to have it removed. He committed to do so but kept dillying-dallying, which wasn't unfortunate because the toenail came loose of its own accord after a few days. No need for surgery and large bandages which would have had to be protected from water.
I have resigned myself to future agony on account of my toenails and my eyes. That's just the way it is.

Horizons

Since I am staying near the sea, I make it a point to visit the seafront everyday. It is not often that I (or most people who live in cities) get a chance to gaze in the distance. I am a little paranoid that my already weak eyesight will fade before I reach an age when it is acceptable to be half-blind, which is why I do eye exercises religiously. One of the exercises is to gaze at objects in the distance. We spend so much time in front of the computer that are eye muscles lose the ability focus at objects at a distance. Gazing in the distance provides our eyes much-needed relief as well as some much-needed exercise.
But, I also like gazing at horizons. I feel they are the physical embodiment of the concept of dialectics, which is a concept I have always been interested in. It is impossible to perceive the sky without having a concept of the earth. A horizon is where the earth and the sky appear to meet--the union of two entities that stand in opposition to one another. Is there a life lesson there? That much of life as we live it in our minds is a dance between contradictory impulses and emotions? For eg., the need for belonging versus the need for assertion of our individuality. That chasing one feeling or emotion but running away from its mirror is futile because they are two sides of the same coin, they meet at the horizon. As an aside, one of my childhood fantasies was to edit a nature magazine fashioned after National Geographic. Except that my magazine would be called Broadening Horizons. 

Going Inwards, Going Outwards

I find it incredible how many questions in the social sciences can be reduced to the structure-agency debate. One of them is the question of mental health. Is poor mental health primarily down to an individual's mental makeup (agency) or due to the wider social context (structure). Obviously both, but which factor dominantes?I know of many structuralists and Marxists who believe modern capitalism is making people sicker mentally. You can swap capitalism with 'technology' or 'culture' or 'social media' without altering your frame of analysis too much. On the other hand, almost all the people I know who struggle with their mental health are either survivors of trauma or have a troubled relationship with their families, particularly their mothers, or both. This is a complex question and I don't pretend to have the answer. There is also the philosophical concept of the dialectic, which I will not get into right now.

But, as I was doing yoga today, I thought of an analogous question--is personal transformation the essential precursor  to social and ecological transformation or is it the other way around? Personally, going inwards has helped me face the world and become more effective in it in my own small way. And, when it seems like the world is going crazy, retreating into my own space--either through yoga or through blogging/therapeutic writing--is such a respite. Does this mean I favour personal transformation over social activism? The answer is different strokes for different folks. I am not inclined towards activism, although that might change in the future (I acknowledge that I am quite  privileged, and have never been denied my basic rights, so opting out of activism is a luxury I could afford). However, my ongoing personal transformation has made me a better teacher and a better friend. And, even if you hope to change the world, a good place to begin is  your own small corner of it.

Gift-Giving

This Christmas, just like two Christmases ago, and two Christmases before that I didn't bring any individual gifts for my aunts and cousins. I just bought a box of chocolates for everyone. They, of course, bought gifts for me and put some thought into what I would find useful. I decided that the next time around, I would buy gifts for everyone. It is just too embarrassing not to do so, and it  just shows a complete lack of consideration. I can make as many excuses as I like--I am a student on a meager allowance whereas they have expensive tastes, I am not materialistic/consumerist, I don't know them well enough, but these are just excuses. I can write reams and reams about consumerist culture and how it is terrible for the environment and for society, but I will save that for another blog post. I realize that gifts don't have to be expensive to be thoughtful, Also, this won't be the first time or the last that I go against my personal proclivities and bow to social norms. As per a wise counsel I received about a year ago, if one is ashamed about a situation, there are only two  choices--either make a conscious decision not to be ashamed and carry on, or change the situation. In this case, I am going to change the situation.I also realize that there is no point in being ashamed now, when it is too late to change the situation. Giving someone a gift shows that you care about them. Whether I like it or not, that is a socially sanctioned way of showing concern and I must play by the norms. And, the key principle here is reciprocity. I need not initiate gift-giving, but the least I can do is reciprocate. Otherwise, I just feel like a freeloader.  

Break From Work

I feel there is too much societal pressure to enjoy breaks from work, especially when the breaks are somewhat forced by social conventions, such as during the Christmas holidays. It is true that however engaging and enjoyable one's work (research, in my case) is, one needs time away from it to recharge one's batteries. But the time away need not be blissful. It just needs to be time away. In fact, being bored of a break is possibly excellent motivation for working harder after the break. I never imagined I would sound like such a workaholic. But, when your work is engaging and you don't have an active social life, I guess it is natural. 

The same goes for a change of scene. Living in an AirBnB for a months at a stretch can be stressful, and I feel it is important to go away for a few days from time to time.