Pardon my enthusiasm

She said: “No – I have not forgotten you.” That’s how my supervisor started her long awaited email. And I thought we weren’t connecting any more. That means she does know what I think. And then she said, “I am very pleased with your chapters”. She finished off with “don’t take your foot off the pedal.”

I said: At last. Now I’m motivated again. It was worth waiting for. I can go on with my coding.

Then I said: Should my coding categories be consistent across all my data sets?

She said: What do you mean by data sets?

I said: I love those deep and meaningful questions. I missed my supervisor’s pedantic precision that makes my brain power go where it never dared to venture. I’m back on track. Life’s good again. Keep coding that data.

My daughter said: Let’s go and see The Corpse Bride.

I said: Yes I need a break. I hate myself for liking Tim Burton films so much because on one level they are a bit whacked.

The corpse bride said: (during the piano duet) he he, pardon my enthusiasm.

He said: I love your enthusiasm.

My daughter and I said: (swooning, drooling and fainting) WE LOVE YOU JOHNNY DEPP.

I say: Google The Corpse Bride and Piano duet, listen to a sample and see how you’ll love it.

My conscience says: (not Peter Lorre, the worm) You have to see the movie to get that one – get back to coding and writing that Analysis Chapter.

Director’s cut

The file in my cabinet drawer marked ‘Old Drafts’ has more stapled papers in it than any other file my work space. I have written more rejected, revised, corrected drafts than I have ever submitted to my supervisor. I kept them as souvenirs of my Director’s Cut. Who knows if disaster strikes and I lose all my work one foul day, I can still piece them together like a jigsaw puzzle from that drawer.

My day job: I write easily and painlessly these days. The effortlessness makes me feel like I’m not working properly. I conceive whole paragraphs in my head already constructed rather than compose them word by word. I type really fast to copy them down before they scroll away. I’m like a child at Primary School copying loads of meaningless lines off the blackboard into my book. Only when I read them back do I see the clarity of insight and originality of thought. Where did all that come from?

No back-ache; no sore neck; no stiff fingers. It’s so easy. I can play music, talk on the phone, go for long walks and still copy down the paragraphs from the screen in my mind with comfort and ease. I almost feel guilty that I should be working harder, suffering more, agonising over the right words.

Recreation: I went clothes shopping with my daughter. We laughed and hugged. We came home with bags of everything we didn’t set out to buy and nothing we intended to get.

Motto for the day:
Limit the frustration too much choice can cause.
Know which choices are worth your time and which are not.
Often you are choosing between two equally fine possibilities.
Choose, Act. Enjoy.
from Stepanie Dowrick

I dare to enjoy myself.

Back on track

The good news: I’m back on track. I emailed a painless 13 page draft of Chapter 4 on Analysis to my supervisor today. I still haven’t had any feedback from the last two chapters I submitted or the 6 page report. It’s like sending my writing off into a big black hole in cyberspace. But it doesn’t put me off. I live to write. I write to submit work requirements. The rest can come later – the consultation, assessment, reviews, re-writes.

What I’m interested in: The problems of identity; the mystery of what it is to be human; hybridity created by border crossings and cross-cultural marriages; the indeterminacy of boundaries; and how we can become citizens of a world democracy. If I can think peace, harmony and connectedness in this troubled world then maybe my descendants will also pick up the thread and run with it.

What I’m listening to: the CD Miracle sung by Celine Dion.

What I’m drinking: tonic water with a dash of Clayton’s and orange blossom water.

Life’s tricks: My thesis writing, with all its painful and joyful moments, has become an important journey of self discovery for me. A quote from my favourite author:

"It is one of life's most playful quirks that even the most insightful among us find it extremely difficult to discern which events in our lives will ultimately turn out to be our greatest blessings. Sometimes wonderful things happen, and then fizzle into nothing. At other times, events occur that we would do anything to avoid, yet it is these that have the potential to challenge and deepen us, to hone us into the person we needed to become; to increase our knowledge of life, and our authentic pleasure in it."
From Forgiveness & Other Acts of Love by Stephanie Dowrick

Check out Stephanie’s web site: www.stephaniedowrick.com

Reconnection with myself: I reconnected with the place of my childhood today. The majestic property I lived on had been transformed into a massive housing estate and sports ground with narrow walk ways between the fences. It was so different. At first I thought I would never find it again. There were no manmade structures that could serve as landmarks. As I walked and explored I felt the place from inside till I knew where I was. Some century-old trees were still standing on the highest ground. I used the lie of the land, the mountains in the distance and the wind in the branches to orientate myself. Yes, I knew exactly where I was and where everything had been. I felt my mothers struggle with discrimination as an accidental immigrant during the post war years. I knew the full impact of my father’s bitter disappointments and lost battle with illness. I plucked some leaves from one of our old poplar trees to take home and press in a tattered children’s book. I was OK again.

Now I can go on writing.

Back on track

The good news: I’m back on track. I emailed a painless 13 page draft of Chapter 4 on Analysis to my supervisor today. I still haven’t had any feedback from the last two chapters I submitted or the 6 page report. It’s like sending my writing off into a big black hole in cyberspace. But it doesn’t put me off. I live to write. I write to submit work requirements. The rest can come later – the consultation, assessment, reviews, re-writes.

What I’m interested in: The problems of identity; the mystery of what it is to be human; hybridity created by border crossings and cross-cultural marriages; the indeterminacy of boundaries; and how we can become citizens of a world democracy. If I can think peace, harmony and connectedness in this troubled world then maybe my descendants will also pick up the thread and run with it.

What I’m listening to: the CD Miracle sung by Celine Dion.

What I’m drinking: tonic water with a dash of Clayton’s and orange blossom water.

Life’s tricks: My thesis writing, with all its painful and joyful moments, has become an important journey of self discovery for me. A quote from my favourite author:

"It is one of life's most playful quirks that even the most insightful among us find it extremely difficult to discern which events in our lives will ultimately turn out to be our greatest blessings. Sometimes wonderful things happen, and then fizzle into nothing. At other times, events occur that we would do anything to avoid, yet it is these that have the potential to challenge and deepen us, to hone us into the person we needed to become; to increase our knowledge of life, and our authentic pleasure in it."
From Forgiveness & Other Acts of Love by Stephanie Dowrick

Check out Stephanie’s web site:

Reconnection with myself: I reconnected with the place of my childhood today. The majestic property I lived on had been transformed into a massive housing estate and sports ground with narrow walk ways between the fences. It was so different. At first I thought I would never find it again. There were no manmade structures that could serve as landmarks. As I walked and explored I felt the place from inside till I knew where I was. Some century-old trees were still standing on the highest ground. I used the lie of the land, the mountains in the distance and the wind in the branches to orientate myself. Yes, I knew exactly where I was and where everything had been. I felt my mothers struggle with discrimination as an accidental immigrant during the post war years. I knew the full impact of my father’s bitter disappointments and lost battle with illness. I plucked some leaves from one of our old poplar trees to take home and press in a tattered children’s book. I was OK again.

Now I can go on writing.