Writing to you from San Francisco. I moved to San Francisco from the East Bay so that I can more easily go surfing without having to use a car and to enjoy the urban density of "the city." Plus it serves as a pleasant mini "blank slate" of new habits in a new place. And this apartment is a bunch cheaper (????) than my old place.
The blank slate is mostly appreciated as I've been recently wrestling with a lot of work-related stress and some social overload. But I'm also beginning my fifth (and final?) year of graduate school, managing projects new and old, lots of travel, some side projects. As such, I'm working hard to orbit back to feeling centered, with my best habits in place. And to remind myself of the good in my current trajectory rather than being avoidant and looking elsewhere. The PhD for me has been as much about getting some specified work done as grappling with how to align my time with my priorities and feel a sense of clarity on what is ahead. Just moving through my late 20s in personal development. Healthy strategies for managing my emotions; effective time management; trust in myself to know what I can do; setting up a professional path for myself—that kind of stuff. (Of course, many days don't necessarily move anything forward—there's always shit to shovel.)
I've been feeling all the more thankful that I've chosen a professional realm where my niche can mature over decades, with lots of room for expansion or specialization. I want to run a community science organization; I want to teach about hydrodynamics; I want to consult for green infrastructure; I want to write about the different ways people build social relationships with water. I think all of these can come to fruition (not all at the same time, thank goodness!) and I'm planting the seeds now. With things growing slowly and subtly, the necessity of clarity of mind is utmost. (One of my favorite pieces at the RISD Museum, when I was a docent there, was this plaque by Jenny Holzer. It felt like finding a hidden message, tucked away in the assemblage of buildings and larger, louder displays. Its message rings true to me today. And obviously, I like the submersion metaphor.)
A search for whatever my sense of quietness requires, that's where my focus is now. Nate has been calling it something like "voluntary simplicity." This requires a lot more saying no than I'm used to, but I'm working on it. There's a material side too (less car, yay!) which runs high risk of running into the obnoxious elitism of a minimalistic lifestyle. I'm hopeful for something much more grounded, but still with that sense of spaciousness and play. (And cheap!)
IN OTHER NEWS... with some friends I am raising money for City Surf Project, an awesome SF-based nonprofit that does youth programming and leadership training via surfing. I've volunteered with them a couple times and the people are a total joy. This fundraising is building towards International Surfing Day (June 18). I'll be surfing then, and hope YOU CAN DONATE what you can ($5? $50? both great!) towards our goal! Your donation will help City Surf Project maintain their long-standing relationships with schools and keep the lights on.
Sitting at my new desk,
Lukas
The blank slate is mostly appreciated as I've been recently wrestling with a lot of work-related stress and some social overload. But I'm also beginning my fifth (and final?) year of graduate school, managing projects new and old, lots of travel, some side projects. As such, I'm working hard to orbit back to feeling centered, with my best habits in place. And to remind myself of the good in my current trajectory rather than being avoidant and looking elsewhere. The PhD for me has been as much about getting some specified work done as grappling with how to align my time with my priorities and feel a sense of clarity on what is ahead. Just moving through my late 20s in personal development. Healthy strategies for managing my emotions; effective time management; trust in myself to know what I can do; setting up a professional path for myself—that kind of stuff. (Of course, many days don't necessarily move anything forward—there's always shit to shovel.)
I've been feeling all the more thankful that I've chosen a professional realm where my niche can mature over decades, with lots of room for expansion or specialization. I want to run a community science organization; I want to teach about hydrodynamics; I want to consult for green infrastructure; I want to write about the different ways people build social relationships with water. I think all of these can come to fruition (not all at the same time, thank goodness!) and I'm planting the seeds now. With things growing slowly and subtly, the necessity of clarity of mind is utmost. (One of my favorite pieces at the RISD Museum, when I was a docent there, was this plaque by Jenny Holzer. It felt like finding a hidden message, tucked away in the assemblage of buildings and larger, louder displays. Its message rings true to me today. And obviously, I like the submersion metaphor.)
A search for whatever my sense of quietness requires, that's where my focus is now. Nate has been calling it something like "voluntary simplicity." This requires a lot more saying no than I'm used to, but I'm working on it. There's a material side too (less car, yay!) which runs high risk of running into the obnoxious elitism of a minimalistic lifestyle. I'm hopeful for something much more grounded, but still with that sense of spaciousness and play. (And cheap!)
IN OTHER NEWS... with some friends I am raising money for City Surf Project, an awesome SF-based nonprofit that does youth programming and leadership training via surfing. I've volunteered with them a couple times and the people are a total joy. This fundraising is building towards International Surfing Day (June 18). I'll be surfing then, and hope YOU CAN DONATE what you can ($5? $50? both great!) towards our goal! Your donation will help City Surf Project maintain their long-standing relationships with schools and keep the lights on.
Sitting at my new desk,
Lukas