Another day of working well - of passionately teaching and marking and speaking and being - bled into an evening of appreciable reading.
I also ran for 20 odd minutes. Nothing special, and not without aches and pains. But with the kind of mundane acceptance that I need if I am to push on towards better places than this.
I find myself a bit more likeable than before.
Sunday, 22 April 2018
Saturday, 21 April 2018
72 days until the last day of term; 145 until job applications; 422 until I leave for new shores
Much of life seems arbitrary, that our lived experiences are malleable by forces outside our control or even awareness. Such a sense of randomness - or the lack of noticing patterns - can lead to unfortunate dislocation as our lives seem very much outside the control of ourselves.
Yet there are worse forces to steal our minds. Smartphones I have found are truly insidious in how they take our minds. I have suffered an embarrassing half year since Xmas whereby I have hardly read or thought at all. Smartphones leech our concentration: concentration and discipline nurture spirituality - the suffering of discipline leads to the betterment of ourselves and a greater connection to others. So much evil and desperation stem from weakness and indiscipline. Smartphones remove boredom, the sufferance of which is essential in garnering strength and discipline. In response, I have deleted my social media. I have logged back on, but am staying quiet.
Today, following on from several weeks of trying to better myself, I feel my mind slightly more cohesive than before. I have read better than before. Today my mind has been saved by the fantasy story of The End Times: reading battle after battle, of small acts of heroism crushing heroes into desperate nothingness... how dark! The story is good enough, though - I am ready far more into reading than even a few days ago.
The lack of reading I have suffered for so long, which is largely of my doing, needs to change. I know that reading is something that takes energy. And after a day of teaching I feel my mind has little energy to read. More than that, I feel more inclined to spend time typing away on social media rather than invest myself in the narrative of another. The lack of a partner also means I am seeking connection outside my mind which is less time to give to a narrative. That combines unhappily with the current state of my attention span which is atrophied yet fat in equal measure. But at least I know this, and I am happy to be doing something about it. Being abroad and alone means that I am far too easily distracted by my phone than I would freely admit.
I used to think that the distraction of social media was in too-earnest political engagement. Or, more likely, too frequent posting of pictures of travelling or food for friends to see. The truth is, though, that a smartphone encourages reading that is frequent and fragmented. And the mind is not really designed to suffer such continual attention - such continuous and partial attention is mentally exhausting. I recognise this and have fostered lifestyle habits this month to hopefully make me stronger mentally.
I desire my next place to be more a place of adventure than where I am now. The Middle East is easy: the money is tremendous, shopping is plentiful and convenient, and food is relatively healthy and easy. However, this place feels vacuous and empty. My continued presence here is something of a penitence for seeking love in the past. I have a colleague who states that she loves this place precisely because it does not feel foreign in any shape. That is fine for some, (for her!), and distinctly understandable for those with families too. But my soul, while it might be tired and somewhat sick this year, cannot suffer the staidness of that reality for much longer. 422 days is about right.
My mind also turns to the sad experience that the memories I am making are shared with so few. It is no doubt better to be sleeping on a bunk in a friend's house at the age of 36 than in a shared bed with someone whose shared future can only be bleak. When I left the UK I was ready for love, and I saw a number of people whose future I was willing to share. I was enamoured, and gained initially from the relationship I fostered in Beijing. But I am ready for a companionship now with one eye on the future. How she looks, where she lives, her attitudes towards retirement, to family and children, to thinking and reading... these are things of mixed importance. Being a good companion is my greatest desire - I have no doubt that more people will be found on the near horizon. I know my flaws; I also know that I have zero debt and appreciable savings.
In terms of my approach to my job, I wish to survive at the moment. I remember working in a Catholic school where there was a regular and nourishing emphasis on the spirituality of the students. Exam results mattered, but the message was fundamental: we were bringing up a community through living values into being. The pedagogical earnestness was perhaps not always there - it was a seaside town and people had done things a certain way for a long time after all. However, it was a place where I could be earnest without question.
My current place is sharp and corporate. Earnestness, despite noises to the contrary, is not really so welcome. Those who immediately boss me are concerned with logistics - with ten classes in a Year group (!) such an approach is somewhat necessary. These people themselves are kind to me. However, something I have experienced before is lost with such a priority on logistics. The school becomes faceless, at least for me. And with no central staffroom, my school experience is reduced until it is tiny: only a few young teachers very little conversation about the world around us.
Therefore, I want to be able to survive this place by doing a good job in the way that balances what they and I desire without looking my spark of innovation. To do so is to realise that I want to work well with less preparation and less time. To deliver a lecture to 250 students in two weeks with little preparation other than that which I have done before is my fine ambition.
The best and most lasting ambition, though, is to improve my concentration, especially in my reading. I have near-on logged off my phone (at least in comparison). I want to be able to read in the evenings and to get through the books I perhaps should have read when I was younger. Considering how much I prize being a thinker and a literature teacher, I am remarkably tired in both. But I don't need to be tired forever. A holiday and a new job will see me seeking a better present than I have made now.
I will look to read more this week and then will write here afterwards.
Yet there are worse forces to steal our minds. Smartphones I have found are truly insidious in how they take our minds. I have suffered an embarrassing half year since Xmas whereby I have hardly read or thought at all. Smartphones leech our concentration: concentration and discipline nurture spirituality - the suffering of discipline leads to the betterment of ourselves and a greater connection to others. So much evil and desperation stem from weakness and indiscipline. Smartphones remove boredom, the sufferance of which is essential in garnering strength and discipline. In response, I have deleted my social media. I have logged back on, but am staying quiet.
Today, following on from several weeks of trying to better myself, I feel my mind slightly more cohesive than before. I have read better than before. Today my mind has been saved by the fantasy story of The End Times: reading battle after battle, of small acts of heroism crushing heroes into desperate nothingness... how dark! The story is good enough, though - I am ready far more into reading than even a few days ago.
The lack of reading I have suffered for so long, which is largely of my doing, needs to change. I know that reading is something that takes energy. And after a day of teaching I feel my mind has little energy to read. More than that, I feel more inclined to spend time typing away on social media rather than invest myself in the narrative of another. The lack of a partner also means I am seeking connection outside my mind which is less time to give to a narrative. That combines unhappily with the current state of my attention span which is atrophied yet fat in equal measure. But at least I know this, and I am happy to be doing something about it. Being abroad and alone means that I am far too easily distracted by my phone than I would freely admit.
I used to think that the distraction of social media was in too-earnest political engagement. Or, more likely, too frequent posting of pictures of travelling or food for friends to see. The truth is, though, that a smartphone encourages reading that is frequent and fragmented. And the mind is not really designed to suffer such continual attention - such continuous and partial attention is mentally exhausting. I recognise this and have fostered lifestyle habits this month to hopefully make me stronger mentally.
I desire my next place to be more a place of adventure than where I am now. The Middle East is easy: the money is tremendous, shopping is plentiful and convenient, and food is relatively healthy and easy. However, this place feels vacuous and empty. My continued presence here is something of a penitence for seeking love in the past. I have a colleague who states that she loves this place precisely because it does not feel foreign in any shape. That is fine for some, (for her!), and distinctly understandable for those with families too. But my soul, while it might be tired and somewhat sick this year, cannot suffer the staidness of that reality for much longer. 422 days is about right.
My mind also turns to the sad experience that the memories I am making are shared with so few. It is no doubt better to be sleeping on a bunk in a friend's house at the age of 36 than in a shared bed with someone whose shared future can only be bleak. When I left the UK I was ready for love, and I saw a number of people whose future I was willing to share. I was enamoured, and gained initially from the relationship I fostered in Beijing. But I am ready for a companionship now with one eye on the future. How she looks, where she lives, her attitudes towards retirement, to family and children, to thinking and reading... these are things of mixed importance. Being a good companion is my greatest desire - I have no doubt that more people will be found on the near horizon. I know my flaws; I also know that I have zero debt and appreciable savings.
In terms of my approach to my job, I wish to survive at the moment. I remember working in a Catholic school where there was a regular and nourishing emphasis on the spirituality of the students. Exam results mattered, but the message was fundamental: we were bringing up a community through living values into being. The pedagogical earnestness was perhaps not always there - it was a seaside town and people had done things a certain way for a long time after all. However, it was a place where I could be earnest without question.
My current place is sharp and corporate. Earnestness, despite noises to the contrary, is not really so welcome. Those who immediately boss me are concerned with logistics - with ten classes in a Year group (!) such an approach is somewhat necessary. These people themselves are kind to me. However, something I have experienced before is lost with such a priority on logistics. The school becomes faceless, at least for me. And with no central staffroom, my school experience is reduced until it is tiny: only a few young teachers very little conversation about the world around us.
Therefore, I want to be able to survive this place by doing a good job in the way that balances what they and I desire without looking my spark of innovation. To do so is to realise that I want to work well with less preparation and less time. To deliver a lecture to 250 students in two weeks with little preparation other than that which I have done before is my fine ambition.
The best and most lasting ambition, though, is to improve my concentration, especially in my reading. I have near-on logged off my phone (at least in comparison). I want to be able to read in the evenings and to get through the books I perhaps should have read when I was younger. Considering how much I prize being a thinker and a literature teacher, I am remarkably tired in both. But I don't need to be tired forever. A holiday and a new job will see me seeking a better present than I have made now.
I will look to read more this week and then will write here afterwards.
Resisting the stasis of this teaching life requires more wisdom than I seem to possess
This is an old post that polished and published today.
It is remarkably easy to discount whatever small achievements we might have enjoyed. Dr Robb Rutledge of University College London has repeatedly found that expectations, and whether we exceed them, lead us to happiness, or more likely destroy its foundations.
In line with such wisdom, I have found myself for a fair while somewhat ambivalent in my expectations. Such a decision means I wander into an inky future with only muddy possibilities underfoot.
If I am to be true, I have many hidden expectations that I do not really acknowledge. The first and most prime expectation is that my time in my current school will soon come to an end. The place is characterised by three factors:
1) It is neutral.
2) It is too busy.
3) It is coercive, if not to me then in the echo of how others have been treated.
All these facts have their benefits. That this place is neutral means there is something of a blank slate for people to create their systems and their plans. That it is busy means we get through much paperwork and achieve much as well. That it is coercive means that I am confident my colleagues are completed a decent amount of work.
However, my experience at the school is distinctively mixed.
The place's neutrality is also its corporate bent. Each week we hear of the importance of managing uniform and grades. Those are essential, and I guess enough, but I do yearn for spirit, for something that moves beyond logistics and grading. Such language is lacking. Of course, such spirit permeates all I do in my classroom and is still my prerogative. It is perhaps recognised, too. But it feels a solo endeavour very often. And any conversation to the otherwise feels boring for others at best, and often shut down with a little spite.
The busy nature of the place rarely feels nourishing or rhythmic. There needs to be weeks where the students embark on projects or on different study aims. Instead, we are continually gearing up for assessments. The exam classes should have such an experience, but different rhythms are surely essential. Some independence in the students and time to interview each student is surely worthwhile and desired.
Finally, the place is purposefully coercive. Very many threats have been made, although very few to me. There is the desire to support teachers. There is wellness in place as a policy. A school needs to provide expectation. Yet there is a sense that tiny misdemeanours will be punished with permanent scratches against records. Good-will is rarely indulged.
Yet is this so different from classroom teaching in general? Is the desire to treat this as more than a job as naive as I feel it might be now? Or does my angst stem from a different form?
For a fair while, for a year since being here, I have felt a strange kind of stasis. I know that I am soon to move on from this place, with the memories it holds and the expensive opportunities it teases. It feels hard to make good efforts when I know these people will soon pass.
Looking to the future, I recognise that the chance to help others on a wider scale requires a level of influence that not everyone will recognise let alone aspire to achieve. The desire to influence others around me seems to have stalled in this larger place.
The busy nature of living for so many will affect our health. Life needs quieter moments, whole weeks where we do not feel coercive authority breathing down our necks. I cannot see a life where I am not busy or I am not striving - but I know that I need rhythm to do so effectively and happily.
Such aggressive demands on our time seem to reduce life. I am sad for the lack of reading and writing I have usually enjoyed. Closer to home, however, is the way my mind has been unduly affected by social media and my phone.
But at least of this I am aware: I am publishing this post, which shows some forward momentum.
It is remarkably easy to discount whatever small achievements we might have enjoyed. Dr Robb Rutledge of University College London has repeatedly found that expectations, and whether we exceed them, lead us to happiness, or more likely destroy its foundations.
In line with such wisdom, I have found myself for a fair while somewhat ambivalent in my expectations. Such a decision means I wander into an inky future with only muddy possibilities underfoot.
If I am to be true, I have many hidden expectations that I do not really acknowledge. The first and most prime expectation is that my time in my current school will soon come to an end. The place is characterised by three factors:
1) It is neutral.
2) It is too busy.
3) It is coercive, if not to me then in the echo of how others have been treated.
All these facts have their benefits. That this place is neutral means there is something of a blank slate for people to create their systems and their plans. That it is busy means we get through much paperwork and achieve much as well. That it is coercive means that I am confident my colleagues are completed a decent amount of work.
However, my experience at the school is distinctively mixed.
The place's neutrality is also its corporate bent. Each week we hear of the importance of managing uniform and grades. Those are essential, and I guess enough, but I do yearn for spirit, for something that moves beyond logistics and grading. Such language is lacking. Of course, such spirit permeates all I do in my classroom and is still my prerogative. It is perhaps recognised, too. But it feels a solo endeavour very often. And any conversation to the otherwise feels boring for others at best, and often shut down with a little spite.
The busy nature of the place rarely feels nourishing or rhythmic. There needs to be weeks where the students embark on projects or on different study aims. Instead, we are continually gearing up for assessments. The exam classes should have such an experience, but different rhythms are surely essential. Some independence in the students and time to interview each student is surely worthwhile and desired.
Finally, the place is purposefully coercive. Very many threats have been made, although very few to me. There is the desire to support teachers. There is wellness in place as a policy. A school needs to provide expectation. Yet there is a sense that tiny misdemeanours will be punished with permanent scratches against records. Good-will is rarely indulged.
Yet is this so different from classroom teaching in general? Is the desire to treat this as more than a job as naive as I feel it might be now? Or does my angst stem from a different form?
For a fair while, for a year since being here, I have felt a strange kind of stasis. I know that I am soon to move on from this place, with the memories it holds and the expensive opportunities it teases. It feels hard to make good efforts when I know these people will soon pass.
Looking to the future, I recognise that the chance to help others on a wider scale requires a level of influence that not everyone will recognise let alone aspire to achieve. The desire to influence others around me seems to have stalled in this larger place.
The busy nature of living for so many will affect our health. Life needs quieter moments, whole weeks where we do not feel coercive authority breathing down our necks. I cannot see a life where I am not busy or I am not striving - but I know that I need rhythm to do so effectively and happily.
Such aggressive demands on our time seem to reduce life. I am sad for the lack of reading and writing I have usually enjoyed. Closer to home, however, is the way my mind has been unduly affected by social media and my phone.
But at least of this I am aware: I am publishing this post, which shows some forward momentum.
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