Emotional Allocation - Thoughts Today?

Today I woke up a little later to find an old colleague has attained a job in a low-tier school in Dubai after being ignominiously fired from his previous post. 

My first response was to feel happy for him, especially after the suffering he must have endured from the mean leaders who pushed him out. Yet after a few minutes I remembered how he was lazy and inept, and that he will likely approach this job in the same lackadaisical manner. I remember leaving my post on an open evening to witness his first speech, only to be disappointed by the rambling mumbles of a generic teacher. He is weak. 

Does this mean that he deserved the cruelty he experienced? I do not think so. 

Does the cruelty we experience or enact match our actions? Alas, in that I am more uncertain than I might have once been. 

Today I tired. But in that tiredness I feel... ok. Difficult challenges of marking and finding boundaries were tackled and defeated this week. 

I am in a state of transition. 

Today I need to consider my MA, making notes for Tristan. 

Focus Time - How Much?

On average I spent 3:30 minutes a day focused on work. This does not include socialising which can feel like work. 

This sounds like a suitable allocation of time. 

In the past, I would work too hard. I chose to work too hard. I felt guilty if I did not work hard enough. 

Not working too hard is a worthy ambition now because it leaves more time for whatever I might see important. 

Each Sunday I have completed a series of tasks and habits, regardless how I feel about things, and often feeling better afterwards. 

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Yesterday I worked too hard because I was agitated. The complexities of the mark schemes was formidable. 

I seem to have 'cracked' what I need to have done. 

I then saw a colleague afterwards. He enjoys the gossip but also talks joyfully about various things to do with teaching. 

I felt various bits of gossip flow past me. 

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Differences of definition and perspective can be particularly painful to express. 

Becoming Calmer

I think becoming calmer involves: 

a) Becoming cogent in my thinking, which improves cogency in my speaking and then my writing. 

b) Recognising the difficulty of 'staying with' past impulses, and letting the 'adult part' take control more often. 

staying with past impulses = 

i) past impulses = my inner child rising to intervene, often in frantic passion

ii) staying with = resisting the desire to satiate that impulse

iii) the adult part = executive function, pausing before responding 

iv) take control = keeping the impulse firing while the adult part is taking control

My position right now is privileged because I can practice calmness. Calmness is a measure of writing, but also a measure of spirit. 

Being calm with friends = lifestyle I might want. 

Knowledge, Insight, Wisdom - Calm?

Forging relationships between themes in literature seems fruitful. 

Making themes more detailed... 

These themes can then become more detailed and situated. 

This then becomes... 

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Compartmentalising ... 

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To regulate emotions I think we need to be with ourselves. When I close my eyes, what do I see? What happens to me? 

Some of my habits was been especially useful these past weeks. 

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Yesterday I spoke to four people. That communication with other people... 

See... 

Writing... 

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Speaking to different people over the past two days has enriched me. How Grace continues without talking to others amazes me. 

Things to consider nearing June 2021

Things to consider: 

Am I overinvested in teaching? Not in time these days, or in the status elements. Perhaps in my emotions. 

What might be my current narrative about teaching? The past narrative? The objective world? 

What would/did/will I want from my teaching? 

Planning a Literature Curriculum

I have relative freedom now in a literature curriculum. 

What do I want to give my literature students? A well-planned curriculum for one, I think. A space to record insights and transfers seems useful, especially one that is done to be efficient. 

What makes interpretations? 

Interpretation - dominant interpretations. What is canon? 

What are power dynamics? What causes canonical interpretations? To what extent is the teacher canonical? How to facilitate interpretations? 

Power and Interpretation? 

How do power dynamics manipulate interpretations? Inform interpretations? 

If you have an interest in how power dynamics influence you, then you have an interest in how interpretations influence you. 

What kind of energy am I experiencing at the moment? 

To what extent am I suggestable? 

Can I move better? 

How might I change my energy and way of speaking? Where might I be emotional? Where might I be measured and moderate?

 

To be social

Social capital is a terrible term because it does not sound organic and human. Instead, it feels technical. 

Finding friends is what I desire. I fluctuate in my social desires. 

LG lives in the US at the moment. My image was that they were educated and capable, a cosmopolitan. Expectations are resistant to reality. I thought her group of friends would be mine; I never made that effort. It was an effort because I have never run with the crowd. I remember the 

I found myself checking out my phone a little more often than usual: this is not ideal. The stab of dopamine on a notification is real though. 

My sympathy for folks who run with the crowd is real because I appreciate their self-preservation. 

The price we might pay for contending the crowd is real. Our rebellious idols will not rise to protect us, why should they? 

 

 

Triggered by Meetings?

Hi folks, 

Yesterday I felt triggered by meetings, considering dynamics of in-group vs out-group and wondering what happened to Brian. 

As it stands, I sat and spoke to my mother two hours, and apparently slept well last night, or at least unfeasibly deeply. 

I cannot think of an ideal scenario in which I talk to liquid girl. Maybe in school, or in an attempt to be untriggered outside?

I feel that I have moved reasonably through my MA and now I can consolidate my data with the four themes. 

I have three lessons today, and each lesson sees me not really teaching either.  With no debate club, I have more MA time as well. 

Thanking that vigilant child

My vigilant child often leaps up within me, his fists wildly clenched, ready to help defend me against those who would demean me. I feel him rising in my chest and belly, a violent spike of emotion that readies my body to run as I once did. 

That boy is very often not needed. The measured adult can instead step in, telling him to relax, to stand down. The overemotional reaction that he often suffers is almost always not needed, and instead leads to an increase in my pace of voice and the painful churning of my internal reaction. People can respond negatively to that perceived franticness, seeing me as out of control because my voice loses its rhythm.  

I am often 'extra' - that has been my mode for a lifetime. 

I remember perhaps when I was 13-14 of becoming 'zany' in order to function in the limited social space available to me. Did I ever change? 

That vigilant child will often rise in me, ready to strike. We can call him defensiveness. But who needs that response from me? 

a) Those against me do not need anything from me...

b) I do not need anything from that child...

Instead, it is time for the adult inside me to take his rightful role as the masterhand of my ship, to recognise the turmoil of my body and the fire in my heart and steady my course. Pause, and breathe into the moment. What consequence might happen if I did curtail my defensiveness? 

It is time to try. 

I do not need anything from you...

And so my mind continues with that agreeable philosophy of 'I don't need anything from you'. 

It is different from 'I don't owe anything to you' but the sentiment is the same. 

Yesterday I sat with Adam and Ian in a bar in our privileged district, enjoying their company. At a few points I sat back and consciously thought: 'what do I owe to you?'. I was happy to sit back, not feeling that I had to give anything to the conversation that I did not want to give. 

This is not quite the same sentiment as hedonism or reactionism. 

Instead it is the sense that: 

i) I can reduce my ego and just be socially, to just sit and listen, and offer a few responses. 

ii) I can do bad things in my job and still get paid. 

iii) I can just be. 

The need to attack the world around me, to seek constant interaction, to fight or fuck, does not need to 'switched on' all the time. 

I read my diaries over the past ten years with some compassion. 

I worked from 2007-9 furiously hard. Too hard. 

Likewise, from 2015-19. 

To work as I am now is fine. 

I do not need anything from me right now. I could say, 'I don't owe anything to myself right now.' I could even cut out the 'right now'. 

I do not owe myself anything :-) This feels like I have saddled my horse, ready to stride a world... 

 

I don't need anything from you

Those words spoken last night by Joanna released me from decades of tension, freeing my sobs to heave out my chest, leaving it flushed and quiet. 

Earlier this week I sat outside the mall and I imagined the people who walked past. The men I wondered if they wanted to fight, and the women I imagine if they wanted to fuck. Both responses require action on my part. My anxiety feels partly a worry about whether I want to expend energy on 'moving towards' people in this way, on giving something of me to them.

I rarely if ever see awareness of this condition in my past writing. Just being sounds ideal. 

Not 'giving' myself in conversation might make me seem morose. So be it. Let's move down this road at my own pace, stopping if I feel the need. 

I dreamt of Cottingham High School

As before, more than a few times, I dreamt of Cottingham High School. It looked different, appearing to be a selection of rooms in a huge old house. These rooms housed the teachers, as well as classrooms and a gaming shop. 

My presence there was for a job as a teacher. I was given that job because I am a good teacher with a great CV. I did not want the job, fearing a life living with other teachers. I could not refuse at the time. 

In time, I did refuse. 

Upon waking I searched for videos of Cottingham. 

In comparison to David Lister that school was great. In comparison to Scarborough... ? I am not certain it was great. My experience was tempered by my lifestyle, a lonely middleclass man with zero social capital. 

I am lonely now. I am sat with someone who is kind, so likely no. 

I perhaps now need to be kinder to myself. I have worked hard at school and feel that I played 'hard mode' for too long. It is time to take my 'foot off the gas', and live at a different pace. 

Some patterns of my life are becoming clearer, of how I might have lived, the cold of working in the UK, and the loneliness of a postgraduate life in neoliberal UK. To be honest, my life is boring. Does that mean that 'I' am boring? 

The anxiety that I feel sometimes seems to be a voice that urges for a different life. Can I appreciate the emotional ways I see my actions and my life? Can I test out provocative truths to see how I might react to them? 

Marking: Autumn - 35 hours 20 minutes

18 weeks x 5 = 90. (90 pomodoros in reality!)

Spring 25 hours 30 minutes

11 weeks x5 = 55 (65 pomodoros in reality...)

Summer - 15 hours 20 minutes

(20 pomodoros so far - 39 done in reality...)

76 hours so far 

180 pomodoros (x1 per day). 

I have done 195 so far. 

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Feel your emotions like an orchestra. Not just one emotion at a time, and sense those more subtle emotions...

A Balanced Life - Easier than you Think?

A balanced life is perhaps 'easier than you would think'. For me balance has been for too long a distant ambition, hazy in its appearance and dangerously tedious. Balance can be transending, a continually evolving experience into something else. 

Today I enjoyed a session about atomic habits. Its best insight made me consider how hard I am working: is 'hardness of working' relating to how much time/effort/energy I give?  

80/20 running. This means that some sessions need to be easier than you think. This means REALLY easy. Like today I woke up at 7:00am and I have trickled along with work. 

Plan for that ease. 

What does it mean to work too hard? What hours? Read penzu.com. Realise that absolute 'dedication' to work... Have you bene in survival mode?

What does it mean to work easy? What is the easiest I can work? Can I even see this from penzu.com? Have my easy periods been filled with ill-habits? 

What is the hardest I can work? How often will I work that 'hard'?  

What I call 'easy' is perhaps someone else's 'normal'... 

Why might I feel guilty about working too hard? Is it a moral imperative to work harder? 

If I am in a niche now where I do not have to work hard, why should I feel guilty about that? Is there a feasible minimum? 

I feel ready for something... 

Boredom at work?

I read my old writings. I am finding life boring right now. 

I feel in my stomach discomfort. There is tightness in my chest. 

My weight is actually below 70kg. 

I managed to transfer stock yesterday with relative ease: about 40 minutes to transfer from P to UK to S, and then to put in an order when the markets open. 

It was easier than trying to get money from that deputy head in Hull. 

Lynn Stanbridge lives in Dubai offering ideas on school improvement. I watched kids telling her to fuck off on a regular basis. 

I had my chance to be in school improvement and I stepped back before that role even started. 

I am happy to be alive at this. 

The Idealised Mind

I am sitting with my emotions more than before. 

That means sitting with uncomfortable emotions more than before. 

There were four years between Camp America and York. Four years. 

I have read old writings about being in Hull and York. I have made some useful choices, although not always emotionally useful choices. 

Making emotionally useful choices should not be optional. 

Being healthy is emotionally useful. I have 'the best health' of my time. 
Being financially focused is useful. 
Being occupationally secure is useful. 

I remember reading about Briony and how I thought about not going to York because of our 'relationship'. Insanity in retrospect. 

I am here and happy now, in perhaps the best relationship of my life, or at least the most comfortable. 

My mind is still flawed in its desire of darkness. But that is fine. 

Rhythm and Integration

More often than before am I sitting with emotions. They feel strong, images of past slights staying with me, of boy-men pushing me off my feet, of girl-women cackling into their cozy privilege. Unlike before I am not overwhelmed. Instead I sit with the feeling, rolling my eyes at the mundanity perhaps. 

I think back to how two women affected me financially, AM and AR. How often do they flash onto the sketchpad of my mind? 

How often does the boy-man Grigg flash onto my mind? I guess I have yet to integrate him, the context in which he operated, and how his emails were left unchallenged by my peers. 

Despite how I did stand up for myself, and how I did come to challenge him, he returns in my mind. Is that a rhythm that will continue indefinitely? 

Imagine a life where this memory never rose at all. 

Is that a life you want? 

Last night I dreamt of Camp America

Last night I dream of Uma Thurman from Camp America. I have not thought of her in decades. 

We ended sat on two chairs in a coach, arms crossed, clothed in warm coats, watching a horrific accident in the muddy fields outside our window. 

The coach rattled slowly around a narrow corner on a high hill, the steep drop on one side precipitous. Rain had fallen on the voracious earth, leaving puddles amongst yellow crops. 

A collection of farmers busied themselves in the muddy fields. One huge lorry, loaded with cargo, overloaded perhaps, attempted to leave the field. Wings of dirt splashed as tires span furiously on the wet ground, desperate to find a grip on the treacherous earth. A low roar sounded out as the lorry smashed backwards, hitting the bridge, collapsing at the worse moment to leave the driver trapped. 

The dream ended there and I came to record it. My feelings of whatever past events echoed. That essence created a dream more interesting that I had experienced in the past. 

Too often when I close my eyes do I experience the same images. 

Reading as Mindfulness

Yesterday I read mindfully in the morning, appreciating the rhythmic flow of words from my mouth. Each breath came and went, in and out, the vibrations of my stomach warmed my chest. That rhythm lasted most of the day. 

Today I am privileged to start that again. 

From time to time I lose that rhythm of my heart and words. To realise that stumble is a chance to step back again into that rhythm. 

I talk to my friend in Malaysia about work, and how to work hard. I think I know what he thinks. 

The profession does not have clear expectations of how hard teachers should work. But that can work all ways. Teachers can work too much, and teachers can work too little. 

I feel there is too little work here. And that is fine, frankly. 

Do I expect others who do not work as hard as I once did to accept that? I would be naive to believe they would. 

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My new HoD, for all sense, is earnest. I admire earnest people. 

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What does it mean to work hard? I feel myself changing, the people I spend my time with pulling me into different fields.