I write this blog mostly because I love reading through past entries. It’s written mostly for me, about my professional/semi-private life, before any other audience. What would I feel like, in ten years, reading about my thoughts during the last few months?

After being legally separated for two years, my parents recently got divorced. Divorce only equals release (解脫) for the naïve. In reality, the practicalities of life still stubbornly occupy our limited supply of energy. Or happiness.

While I rarely mention it, this rollercoaster of emotions often leaves me suffocated and helpless. I’ve been trying hard to perfect the art of keeping up a constant guard against my emotions, but like an endless, determined stream, it manages to widen the cracks in my armour. In moments of overflowing pain, sometimes I wonder why it’s so hard to let go (放下). Why do we grip on so hard to feelings and histories that refuse to stay? Why do we endure the illusion of holding onto a bright fire, while scalding our fingers?

Seven years. Seven years of listening to increasingly hostile arguments. Of using showers to muffle cries. Of pretending to be strong. Of naively taking sides and letting irreversible time be wasted. I will never make that mistake again.

It’s nice to be able to finally admit all this. I guess, this is also part of the journey.

I have to admit, I’ve been a bit complacent in my life in Dar.

I know most of the streets where I need to go. The speed bump with the largest hole is over there. The road turns a bit dark in that corner so never walk there alone at night.

I know how to communicate basic daily needs. Greetings (that is a basic need), buying food, making up fake stories of fake husbands, asking directions, eavesdropping, telling people I’ve lived here long enough and don’t appreciate being ripped off.

I know people I like hanging out with. I know people I don’t like hanging out with; and purposely avoid. I’ve become a fast judge of character for new people I meet, but always interested in seeing if my opinion would turn out wrong.

I know when there is a slight hesitation when people answer your questions, you should take the statement and change it to the opposite meaning. “Is it possible to get my letter today?” “Yes…of course” means that you would have no chance in getting the letter.

I know how no plan of how fast things can be done will actually happen. If they do, treat it as a miracle.

The simple happiness of strangers congratulating my Kiswahili doesn’t seem so glowing anymore. The curiosities of stepping on the street and observing people out of the corner of my eye doesn’t fascinate as much anymore. Even discovering a new place to hang out, a new hole-in-the-wall with good food, a new temple, a new street to wander doesn’t give the same rush as a year ago.

I think my itchy feet are starting to itch again. I need to move on. Find something new, something interesting, something I don’t understand. Daily occurrences that make my head tilt and eyes bright.

Granted, I know full well I do not know many stories of the city. I do not know how the vast majority actually live. I try, but I will never fully know. I know that if I were a bit less complacent, I would find whole new sides of Dar waiting to be discovered. But I have a hard time explaining my lethargic reaction.

I’m just tired. The daily struggle of ignoring random comments yelled in my direction, of trying to be safe, of worrying about the newest crime incidents, of walking in the heat and coming home to no water, of hearing the same “heroic” stories from the constant stream of newcomers, of the constant stream of newcomers, of being away from family, of ……

When am I going to get my strength again? Moving to a new city/country just seems so much easier – you have no choice but to go out and explore.

I just finished reading a book called Talent is Overrated. The main premise is that the traditional way we think about talent is misguided.

We tend to think of those who are talented as having special powers from birth. No matter how hard we mere mortals work, we cannot compete against those who are “chosen.” In reality, success actually comes from a combination of a lot of practising (at least 10,000 hours), a strict deliberate practice regime, and continual practice even once you reach the top.

Theoretically, anybody can take up such tasks and become an expert. The main difference between those who work hard and those who don’t is motivation. That’s when it becomes a bit murky about what causes some people to have extremely high motivation, and hence discipline, and others to be happy staying at the same level throughout life.

The book is not very well written and the research it cites is nothing novel – if you have read “Blink” by Malcolm Gladwell, you’ve read 70% of this book. Yet it really drives home the point of setting up a regime of deliberate practice to work on something you want to improve. Deliberate practice is where you set up practice in a way that makes sure you’re always stretching to the limit of your capabilities. Always working on a specific part of the task that you are weak in and then moving onto the next weakness when the previous one is conquered.

This will not always guarantee success, especially since which areas of expertise will lead you to success is hard to predict. It would, however, ensure that you do progressively improve in the field. The great part of this theory is that deliberate practice can be applied to anything: whether it is chess, management skills, or meditation.

Throughout reading the book, I tried to think of a skill that I would really like to improve to the point where I need to put in 10,000 hours. My motivation didn’t point to skills such as running, playing the piano, photography. I did hesitate on management skills, communication skills, and knowledge in the development field. In the end, the same skill kept popping up as the perfect candidate – reflection.

I would really like to become better at reflection. Able to gain lessons and perspectives from daily life. Able to apply this knowledge gained to other areas of life. Able to stop myself in the middle of a heated moment and reflect on what I am doing. I would like reflection to become an automatic part of me to allow me to continually improve.

I’m not sure if this is a far-fetched idea. I also don’t have much idea on how to set up a strict deliberate practice routine to work on “reflection.”

So far I’ve come up with a very unoriginal idea – really committing to writing one short post a day, whether it is on this blog or otherwise. I would set the alarm for 17 minutes of uninhibited writing of a thought that needs reflecting upon. Then I would spend 5 minutes editing the post after writing.