I have currently run out of content that can be generated within half an hour, and so I’m going to do something I haven’t done in ages on this blog, and I’m going to just sit down and write.
I’m trying a new thing with the whole productivity vibe. To new and old readers galore, back in 2014 I had juggled six blogs in one go. One of those blogs was titled “Life Chants”, and in that blog I first posted my growing desire to write lists, tick things off stuff, make charts, learn how to dominate Microsoft Excel (actually that last one was way too out of my league).
So it’s been three years since (bloody hell), and I’ve been through the productivity tips blender. Really. Okay, I’m not the planner sort (cos they’re expensive and useless), but I’ve spent ages calculating and delegating my time out, writing up elaborate systems that would ensure that I found success in every single area of my life, and even bought a damn app. (Spoiler: apps are expensive and useless).
Since then I’ve revised all of my productivity tips and, news flash, none of them tended to work particularly well these past couple of years, so now I’m relying on my head a lot more.
I’ve realised that relying on schedules and elaborate behind-the-scenes schemes did clear up thinking time for me. But I didn’t know what to do with that thinking time, so it didn’t make me any more creative or clever or what have you. (What have you, as a phrase, is really weird and I’m not sure I like it. I am indeed the sort of person who likes and dislikes manners of speech). Thing is, you can’t teach your brain how to think in certain ways simply by clearing out time. I think that one of my aims with tidying up all the time I had during the day was to clear out all the thinking that I do in real time about the future and what I would be doing next, and use that time then to focus on the present. This failed. While I no longer spent much of my time thinking about what I would be doing next, I spent that cleared up time thinking about other things that similarly slowed down my productivity rate.
Also, I’ve been thinking about the universality of love. Everybody thinks it’s the same but from reading The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison I kind of got the message that love really isn’t the same for anyone. The Bluest Eye plus NW plus Brick Lane all chose to affirm that love is actually not universal at all – and that your parameters for love may not match mine.
I think that’s pretty cool.
I’m also a tumblr addict. I think. It’s not too bad. One of the posts I read on tumblr was about how children choose to live with their family instead of moving out when it comes to going to university. And how the Western push towards moving out for college is actually a pretty big diss towards people who can’t really afford to move out, and the lovely post ended with how certain cultures all around the world in fact encouraged kids to live at home and attend university simply because certain cultures all around the world didn’t devalue poor people and shame them for their poverty.
(I think that’s pretty damn cool).
It’s made me think about what values my Bengali/Muslim culture has entreated upon me that I’ve grown to despise, and how much of that resentment comes from learning that certain Western values are more honourable, and that certain values of my (inferior) Bengali/Muslim culture is something I should be ashamed of.
Ever since I watched the theatre production Les Blancs I can’t help but focus on how racism and the social class struggle interlink so much. In one scene the main character in Les Blancs, a black man who had come back to his hometown somewhere in Africa for a visit from America, a black man who had a white wife and a mixed race kid back in the US, talked about how he hesitated to hate all white people for the suffering of those who had been subjugated to harsh and unfair rule under white colonisers and were stripped of their heritage and their selves as a result of this, he talked about how he could relate to white people. How the poor white people in America who were unprivileged and fighting for their lives like he was, reduced and taken advantage of, how he could relate to them and how close he felt to them.
I think about that a lot, too.