SA SMITH

Obsession is a paresite that rules the mind and controls the body. Your more moderate will is short-circuited, and any semblance of self withdraws to the role of caterer and carer. To stifle counter-revolution, outside of the core aims of the pathogen, the mind is tear-gassed. Too hazy to think, there is little choice but to comply.

When you come extremely close to achieving something, the pain of pulling up inches short is intolerable. It was in reach. Only a few tiny facts need to change for the outcome to be wildly different. Those minor adjustments, the “what ifs”, playback on loop. For a while.

There are two drivers that act upon the writers I know, that compel them to practice writing. One, outcome-driven, and the other, internal. We are blessed to read amazing work. The impact of writing, fiction & non-fiction, can be life-changing and mind-blowing. Writers share their work in the hope that, one day, they can produce something reality-altering for their readers. A friend sent me a quotation from Cicero today, which was written more than 2000 years ago. The quote provided clarity and perspective on a problem I was facing in 2021. The well-ordered word can span millennia and traverse seas.

In the world of software development there are ‘libraries’ which perform specific jobs. For example there are libraries that allow you to manipulate time, to figure out things like timezones and durations, which can all get quite nasty otherwise. The nice thing about a library is that it is made in one place, and it can be used everywhere. Every piece of software you ever interact with will use a time library. It’s like a specific part for a car radiator, made in a factory somewhere and then put into every car that’s ever made. Car companies don’t need to worry about that part: it’s just there.

It can be tempting to think about learning like a progress bar to fill, a course to run. Like putting eggs in a basket. I often remind myself of the parable of the martial artist, telling the story of his journey.

Watching England this summer has been markedly different from the experience, 3 years ago, in the World Cup. The World Cup of 2018 was a peak moment as a Londoner. Those rare times of perceptible unity. Packed into small sawdust-covered pubs, squinting at a TV across the room, pint resting heavily on dashed nerves. That warm summer the city came alive, revived like the 2012 Olympics. On the street, it was on everyone’s mind, and we had something to talk about. We had as a city and a country a shared dream: maybe football was coming home.

On Saturday I got my first vaccine for coronavirus, at St Thomas’. Less ordeal than outing. Something akin to the first day of a school you’ll attend for 20 minutes. When it was my turn, I sat in the green chair and answered the questions. From nowhere a scratch on the skin, and I prepared myself to get the jab. I was informed though, that the scratching sensation had been the jab, and I was ready to leave.

When it’s hard, you’re on the right path. Challenges you care about. Fights you were made for. Nothing you rushed was worth doing. No short cut was worth taking. Everything important takes time, and love, and care, and attention. Never act half-heartedly. If you can’t go all in, don’t bother. Half-hearting does more damage than good. The long way, or no way.

My heart broke at the thought of leaving my team. They really were the most talented and supportive group. I reluctantly took the new job, and less than a month later that team was dismantled when their project was dropped. I had stepped off of a beautiful ship, and watched it sink moments later.

It’s easy to lie to yourself to prop up your own identifying beliefs. We would rather hide evidence from ourselves than accept that any of our founding, defining beliefs are under challenge. You must not fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool.

Schools and students are measured by exam results. What if we had a different measure instead. The input to a schooling system is wide-eyed, excited children. Disillusioned cynics can’t be an acceptable output.

Muhammed Ali said “Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion”. How good can it feel to be a champion? How long will it last? Then what?

Filling the void where your achievement was supposed to go is not a trivial task. Trophies fill cabinets, not lives.

It finally became widely acceptable to talk about our feelings in 2020. Everyone was suffering (future people, we were locked at home during the coronavirus pandemic), and the suffering was the only news, national news. Mental health issues had traditionally been a taboo topic, especially among men. Male suicide rates are extremely high. Sad tales of “you’d never have known” told after another person takes their own life, all too common.