365

26 - The Architect

Studying is hard.
Otherwise, it would not have "dying" in its name. In grade school, at least in my country years ago, studying is about achieving high enough scores so that  you are not beaten up by your teachers and parents. In high school and undergrad years, studying is about not failing so that you can have a future. In my years as a postgrad research student, studying about facing uncertainty, unknown, and questions to your self-worth. As we get older, hardship of studying is less physical and more abstract, yet it is never less real. 

---------------------------------------------------------

Henry David Thoreau once said "The mass of men lives of quiet desperation".

In my PhD years, I came to understand this quiet desperation. It is not like a raging wild fire that engulfs you in one bite. Instead, it is more like a flooding room that slowly, very slowly, barely noticeable, swallows you. Until one day, you wake up and you wish that you don't. That's when the water is way over your head. With PhD students, desperation comes from long hours in the office, struggling to produce some results while wondering whether they can make it to the end, and whether that would make any difference.

This quiet desperation does not result in outburst of tears or anger. Well, most of the time. If I have to describe it in one word, I would say "empty". No, you will not become a sad, teary mess. You still go on with your life. You still smile. You still laugh at jokes. However, everything you do seem distant and artificial. It feels like a void with no way out, no ending. You simply do not feel happiness anymore. In fact, sometimes, you do not feel anything. 

What did I do? At first, I tried to improve my plans and learn new productivity methods. However, nothing seemed to work. Then I gave myself breaks, and returned more restless than before. Then, I joined volunteering teams, took up writing, learned cooking, got serious in my sartorial training, splurged on new clothings. I did everything so that I can  to feel happy again. Nothing worked. 

And then, on one night, which was less than two days away from the deadline for a major publication, I decided to throw all of my moderation out of the window and forced myself to work. Coding and writing were a torture, but I decided to stay in the office. At 6pm, voices died down. At 10pm, last people in my office left. At midnight, the last undergrad student left. At 1am, I'm all by myself. At 3am, I lied down on the couch in the kitchen of the office for a quick nap and was waken up by a janitor. At 5am, the sun rised, and my project was done. 

As I held a cup of coffee and looked at the dawning day, I suddenly realised how alive I was. Yes, I was exhausted. But I  also was happy. Not the kind of explosive, flowery happiness; nor the kind of satisfaction you get when you buy a new expensive toy. It was more, yet also simpler than that. At that moment, I realised that I have received the most important lesson, perhaps in my entire life. 

---------------------------------------------------------

Years ago, I learned from Stephen Covey that for most people, "love" is an adjective. Yet, for certain people, "love" is a verb. These people do not wait to feel love. They love others, and through this act of loving, they feel love. 

Happiness is no different. If we want to feel happy, we cannot wait around and hope that some external situations will make us feel happy. Instead, we must earn it. My struggle with the quiet desperation gave a bit of hope that it is possible. All that it takes is holding your destiny in your hand, and believe in yourself. 

Because, after all, we are the architect of our destiny. 

p.s. (Shameless advertisement): The feature photo comes from my instagram. You should definitely have a look: https://www.instagram.com/gen_ng_tr/