Changing winds and the punctured beaker

The winds have changed; a new season is underway. We do still live under a perpetual blanket of grey, the slumbering effects of which became apparent when we received three days of sunshine. It made us feel like underground creatures emerging from a cave, bewildered, to bask in the sun with squinting eyes. The sea is still frozen, and our winter boots are still crunching snow on our walks to school. Even so, the birds have begun to sing, lifting me from my ponderings, and talk of the future is now in the air.

‘After MSLS’ was a topic of no interest and of some taboo before winter break. But we’ve come through the bend of the year’s bottom, and everything is different now. In my thoughts and dreams, and in my conversations, images of possible futures have begun to float. Scattered and formless at first, ideas are now beginning to crystallize. It feels ever so different from facing the end of my three years at University College, or ‘the black line on the horizon’ in California. Here in MSLS it’s always been about the future and the wider world. MSLS is a social island, but it’s not insular. Everyone has come to gain skills and knowledge, to change a bit, all in preparation to go back out there better equipped to make a contribution. And a warm network of alumni, with fondness in their hearts for the program that has done so much for them, is waiting for us at the finish line. Looking to the future and its potential is exciting this time. Daunting, sure, but not depressing.

Until then, life here continues to be intense. We have begun work on our thesis, in teams of three. After practicing for months with increasingly longer and more demanding group projects, this is the crown jewel. We all knew the drill when we began: sit down and start the process of the coming months with a ‘governance meeting’: a radically honest round about our work styles, our personality flaws and virtues, our values, hot buttons, dreams and personal learning objectives. We began creating timelines and shared mental models. We scheduled time for work, for tactical meetings, for check-ins and feedback moments, and for celebration. We have been conditioned well.

Thesis will dominate our lives until we graduate, and it’s reflected in the shifted social landscape: people have mostly found their social niche and daily routines. By nature of large groups, and by design of the program, our class has disbanded a bit. Though all of us want to make an effort to counter this dispersion, it’s a challenge to do so under so much work pressure. It’s the ever-elusive balance between focused and lateral vision. I know I struggle with it. I am fully immersed in my own intense personal journey, which is emotionally exhausting – though bless its many everlasting gifts. So I’ve got my blinders on, feeling I don't have enough energy and attention left to engage with everyone in our class, let alone visitors. Even though being open and warm and welcoming is what I aspire to above anything.

That is why poking a hole in my MSLS journey to come to the Netherlands for a long weekend was probably a good idea. It was a decision I gave some thought, because I wasn’t planning on breaking out at all this year. I’m attached to the image of the alchemist who can’t let his beaker leak, if he is to make gold. The many moments I’ve felt trapped and emotionally overtaxed only fueled my grit. Perseverance and will power are traits of mine I identify with strongly. It would surely, in some subtle way, change the nature of my journey, to step out and reflect from a distance during the journey, rather than only at the end. I’m very happy I went. It normalized things somewhat to be around old familiar faces and remember how much love there is for me, stored in people in other places of the world. It also made me realize upon my return just how tense my baseline state is here. The workload is very demanding, and so is the closeness of the community. We literally live on top of each other, it’s sometimes hard to breathe. The emotional havoc it wreaks means that every day is a dance back to alignment. The latest buzzword here is ‘personal practice’ – what do you do to keep sane, to stay grounded? – because there is such an acute need for one.

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. To run up against the limits of physical and emotional resources, to grapple with time poverty, to feel the tightening stomach when going in for another round of critical feedback, from a group project or from a housemate. But really, there is abundance. There is inspiration and stimulation every day. Beauty and grace in our surroundings, and in our wonderful friendships. We do have time. In fact we have dedicated all our time to be fully here for this year’s bounty, falling in our laps and thrown in our faces. We just need to go slow, one step at a time, drumming for today. Towards a dawning vision of the future.