Expectations

Apologies for the slight hiatus over the past few months! I've been busy working, studying, visiting family, travelling and getting deep into research mode for my dissertation. Understandably, blogging sort of fell down the list of my priorities!

Lately I've been thinking about expectations and the effect that they can have on how we go about our lives on a daily basis. They affect all aspects of life and all of our relationships, from professional to personal, and especially familial, and the expectations that we percieve or hold ourselves can skew our perception of the world. 

How often do the expectations we hold about others and those that they hold about us actually align with reality?

False or unrealistic expectations can often lead to disappointment and confusion about why they weren't achieved. Without appearing to sound as if we should all lower our expectations of both ourselves and other people - because we shouldn't, especially when it's people we know well and care about - perhaps we should become a little more realistic in what we think can, and should, be achieved. Instead of expecting everyone to automatically become tolerant of others because the majority thinks that is a good idea, maybe we should start expecting that our systems of education and discouragement of discrimination be made more effective and that our representatives act accordingly to remedy any deficiencies in those systems.

Beginnings

So after two and a half weeks of looking at this little post-it on my desk telling me to "Blog... 'beginnings'?" every day, I have finally sat down to do as I'm told (even if it was me doing the telling).

As a student I have become a master of the art of procrastination, and believe me, it is an art. You start the day with this nice neat list of tasks that need doing, like going food shopping and studying, and somehow you end up doing the shopping, reading a book, watching a film and meeting your friends for coffee but not the studying, even though it's the most important thing on the list.

The feelings of guilt that we generate by procrastinating an important task often actually seem to reinforce our desire to procrastinate, and so a cycle of guilt starts following us around until we actually cave in and do something about whatever it is we're not doing.

The culprit, at least in my case, is my impulsiveness to do something fun like watch a film, go for a walk or make something extra delcious to eat. Since prioritisation doesn't seem to work very well in the face of an especially strong desire to procrastinate, I think the time has come to attempt to master our impulsiveness - to harness it to immediate effect for those tasks that seem less interesting or aren't as fun as the things we would prefer to spend our time doing. Of course, that's usually easier said than done.

It might be a never-ending battle, but at least once you finally begin the end moves into your line of sight and starts to get a little closer all the time. You just need to make your move.

The art of relaxation

Having spent my morning making the most heavenly 'Grand-cru chocolate tart' from Le Cordon Bleu's Chocolate Bible and my afternoon painting, I am firmly of the belief that relaxation is an art form. Not only is it an art form, but it's something that everyone should be working to perfect.

Admittedly it can be a bit tricky to find time to genuinely relax during the week when work, school, and other pressures are constantly lurking around every corner, but Sundays are ideal for perfecting the art of relaxation. Lazy Sundays (the best kind of Sunday) are made from lie-ins, pyjamas, chocolate and a generous serving of escapism.

Whether you spend the day reading, watching films, cooking delicious food, painting, or another hobby or pastime, the key point is to de-stress and forget about your worries for the day. I think there would be a lot less conflict in the world if we all made the effort to relax and get rid of all of our built-up tension.

In my opinion, Sundays should be made mandatory relaxation days so that we can all wake up refreshed and prepared to face the coming week on those miserable Monday mornings. Free chocolate would be pretty good too...

The hunt is on

Job hunting is, in my opinion, one of the most dispiriting and demoralising pusuits that we ever undertake in the course of our lives.

We spend hour upon hour, day after day, and often week after week searching for vacancies and writing down all of our qualifications in a desperate bid to convince a total stranger to employ us. We get told 'no' so many times that we end up believing that our experience and knowledge are substandard compared to everyone else out hunting. We find ourselves caught in that vicious cycle of experience - no-one wants to hire someone without any experience, but if you can't get hired then you can't get experience.

As someone currently tackling job hunting on a double front - part-time to support my studies and full-time after I graduate - this phenonmenon is by no means unfamiliar to me. In fact, it is far too familiar and sits right next to that feeling of intense frustration that as a (reasonably) intelligent law student on track for a decent degree classification I am finding it extremely difficult to convince anyone to interview me, let alone hire me, for basic minimum wage positions.

Yet all is not lost, I actually succeeded in getting an interview yesterday! Which I will know the result of sometime in the next two weeks...I realise that it takes a while to interview all of the likely candidates, but I can't help but wish I could find out tomorrow and just get to work. In the mean time I have to remind myself (by way of motivating post-it notes all over my desk) that I just need to keep trying and that I am actually a good candidate.

So far I've realised this: if you give up hope and stop trying, no-one will ever hire you. Also, hot chocolate and a big bowl of chilli sin carne are pretty good companions to the endless typing.

Labels

Rich, poor, gay, straight, married, single...the list goes on. Everything and everyone has its own label to separate and distinguish it from everything else around it. But why? Why do we feel compelled to categorise and pigeonhole?

Starting with the advocation of women's rights in the 1870's and picking up steam over the last 140 years our current developmental trend is leading us towards principles of equality and non-discrimination. These are two fairly lofty goals, and I believe that they're crucial for positive societal development, but how does our seemingly overwhelming compulsion to label fit in with these ideals?

The pursuit of equality and non-discrimination is supposed to be leading us towards becoming a more unified and cohesive society, but isn't labelling and pointing out all of our differences actually working to divide us further? Stereotyping has become a way of life - even my host asks me to assign labels to my blogs - yet there is a risk that our labels will become a self-fulling prophecy in themselves. Think about it - if you're told that you are something or are part of a 'group' doesn't that make it more likely that you'll conform to the expectations associated with that?

Why do we do it? Is it useful? Our desire to label comes from our historical and social preconceptions of people who on the face of it fit into certain groups. This might be useful when deciding on the tax code, but if we're trying to become more unified and tolerant as a society, I don't think that labelling people generates many benefits.

As a character in 'Up in the air' says, "I stereotype - it's faster." Is efficiency really worth it in the end if we have to compromise our pursuit of equality?

Baggage

I move a lot. By a lot, I mean that I can remember living in 18 different houses in the last 17 years, and apparently there were quite a few more in those early years before my memory decided to differentiate properly between my bedroom in house A and my bedroom in house B. That'll be shifted up to 20 pretty soon, as in a little over a week I'm moving back to Scotland  into a summer let before moving yet again into the flat I'll live out my undergrad education in.

As you can imagine, I've become pretty good at packing over the years.  Even so, the concept of moving 700 miles by train (four trains, to be exact) is somewhat alarming. Especially since I'll be travelling alone without anyone to offload excess baggage on. A medium suitcase, a 65l rucksack and a handbag are all the space I have to fit everything into. Plenty, right? Now, bear in mind that although my room was furnished, living in Belgium for 10 months I still needed bedding, storage spaces, a bin, a kettle, and all of those bits and pieces that make up the "necessities" of life. Suddenly that space seems tiny.

I may be able to squeeze all sorts of things into packing boxes and moving trucks, but fitting all of these necessities, plus my clothes and mountain of study materials, in a suitcase and rucksack seems kind of impossible.While looking into selling the lamp/kettle/bin/etc. I found myself musing on what the "necessities" of life really are in material terms. Think about it - how long do we hold onto things we never use, clothes we never wear, and other supposedly "sentimental" items?

Will that cinema ticket or concert stub really mean that much a few years down the line? Okay, today it is a reminder of a wonderful date or night out with friends, but 5 or 10 years down the line I doubt you'll pick it up and instantly remember that great night. Or if you do, it's more than likely that you'd remember it anyway without that little scrap of paper. Not that some things aren't truly sentimental and really do have value and importance as physical reminders and souvenirs of the important times and people in your life - I have some things I've kept for years (my first teddy bear comes to mind). More often than not though when I go back and look through the box I keep all that stuff in I find it's lost its shine.

One benefit of my near-constant moving is having the opportunity to sort through everything at least once a year. I may have a storage space back in Scotland for all the things I couldn't bring to Belgium (books, kitchen equipment and bedding mostly, with a table thrown in for good measure), but if I hadn't had a thorough clear-out before storing everything I'd be returning to a pile of useless things and faint reminders of good times that live on in full technicolour in my memory. Instead, I'll return to a collection of things that are genuinely necessary for my preferred standard of living.

Life would be a lot less cluttered if we all went through our baggage and asked ourselves "do I really need that?" Otherwise, we'll just find ourselves dragging it around in the years to come.

The Fear

As a third year law student in the middle of exam season, The Fear has been occuping my thoughts rather a lot of late. Famous plaguer of students, The Fear has come to be a routine and expected part of university life and often, if you don't profess to have it, your fellow students look at you like you're unstable, delusional or just plain crazy.

So what is it? Fear is often defined as "an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm." This doesn't seem quite right for The Fear though, as the exam isn't going to literally jump off the table and attack us - the worst it will really do is threaten us with a papercut (which even our favourite books do on a regular basis). Clearly a new definition is required. How about this - 

"The Fear is an unpleasant emotion caused by the growing immediacy of an academic challenge" 

Again, this doesn't seem to fit the bill - if we didn't like academic challenge, why did we sign up to a university degree? What is it we're really afraid of when we go into an exam hall?

The Fear seems to be a relatively new phenomenon, at least in that we didn't seem to experience it when we were younger. Five years ago when I was sitting my GCSEs and A Levels I didn't have The Fear, and neither did my friends. We were nervous, yes, and anxious to do well, but we were never afraid of exams the way we seem to be today. Somewhere between school and university, between being an innocent little fresher taking their first independant steps out into the world and becoming a fully fledged graduate, The Fear creept into our hearts and settled in for the long haul.

Why has The Fear become so important? A growing number of students use it as a study tool for last-minute cramming, while some use it to heighten their focus just before going into the exam hall. The majority, however, find it debilitating, distracting and detrimental to their learning. So why do we continue to foster it and allow it to rule us during the exam season and before every deadline?

Perhaps to really understand the role that The Fear plays we need to look beyond the cloistered walls of academia to the "real" world. In a world with a faltering economy and highly competitive job market, to complete a three or four year university course can cost tens of thousands of pounds and a mediocre result may mean that you miss out on the best opportunities. Maybe it can serve a purpose then as preparation for students exiting the sheltered world of study, but is it really useful? For those with perfect recall and photographic memories, perhaps the motivation it gives helps, but for the rest of us normal mortals, I don't think it helps at all.

This morning I had a three hour closed book exam on the law of the World Trade Organisation (yes, that subject really is as dull as it sounds), and I definitely had The Fear going in. Strangely though, for the last three days of studying, I didn't have The Fear. Instead, I had a quiet confidence that I would memorise and learn everything I needed to and be able to answer the questions that the professor set. Yet despite that confidence in my abilities I still woke up today scared of the exam, very nervous and unable to go over my notes one last time. It might be good in the long run as preparation of the younger generation for the stress and toil of the workplace, but I don't think it really served my best interests this morning. Luckily for me, once I got into the exam and started writing I got that quiet confidence back and left the exam relatively happy, but I know that many of my classmates were flicking back and forth through the exam booklet in fear.

Maybe the best way to use The Fear is to look it straight in the eye and tell it to go back to the cave it crawled out of. That way we could feel better about ourselves as students and as confident adults without the unpleasantness of The Fear festering away in our hearts waiting for the next opportunity to take us over.

Once upon a time...

Welcome to Trials and Explorations - musings on daily life!

Following the completion of my project of documenting a year in the life of a law student living and studying in Antwerp, Belgium, I decided that a longer term project was in order, and so Trials and Explorations was born.

The aim? To document the meandering musings of a student as she ventures into the fourth and final year of her undergraduate degree and prepares to enter the "real world". Fear not, I may study law but I do occasionally muse on other topics - from art to ice-skating, from webcomics to philosophy, who knows where my musings will lead.

Today's musing...

As a 21 year old student nearing the end of my degree I am continually faced with the question of "what are you going to do next?" Everyone around me seems to have their whole lives planned out as solicitors or barristers, and though I'm sure they're not quite as together as they seem, and have their own doubts, it can sometimes feel as if I'm merely pretending to be a responsible adult and that at any moment the disguise will fall off.

Of course everyone experiences this type of self-doubt where time seems to run away from you at pivotal moments in their lives, but lately I keep turning around and realising that a case from 2004 is actually 8 years ago, and not the 2 or 3 it feels like. Then I turn around again and realise that I have lived on my own for 3 years, travelled to and around Peru, successfully completed a year's study abroad on a postgrad programme, and generally become an adult while I was busy looking elsewhere. Then I turn around again and get a little dizzy...

Time has a funny way of switching and changing constantly so you can wake up feeling mature and capable, revert to wondering how you got from being that little kid dreaming of being a princess or a train driver to being a student preparing to enter the workplace around lunchtime, and then spring back to being responsible and generally adult sometime around teatime.

In the immortal words of John Lennon, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." I think the only sensible answer to the question "What are you going to do next?" is this: "Figure it out." Make mistakes, learn from them, go on a journey where the destination isn't important and eventually I'll turn around again and find that I've dropped the disguise and really am an adult out there in the real world, hopefully doing something I enjoy.