I’ve consciously tried to make it a point to write one end-of-year blogpost every year, although my urge to write/blog has been on the wane (in part because I prefer to keep more of my life private/offline, in part because I haven’t summoned the energy to write academically “for fun”, in part because writing is like exercise; the less you do it, the less you want to do it and this positive feedback loop has been going on for a while now for me). It’s funny how writing (online) has changed over the decades, from something that was quite personal and honest to something that has become professionalised/commercialised. This blog article was shared in response to a Tweet wondering how some Commentaries make it into (online) news sites, and I marvelled at the way that article was written (in 2005) and its content.
Whatever its flaws, the writing you find online is authentic. It’s not mystery meat cooked up out of scraps of pitch letters and press releases, and pressed into molds of zippy journalese. It’s people writing what they think.
Paul Graham, The Submarine, April 2005
In the 16+ years since he wrote that, the Internet has changed enough that writing online is definitely not (always) authentic. Conversely, we are now able to use online platforms (whether for writing or other purposes) to portray a version of ourselves that we best want to present, to carefully curate our written thoughts or posed photographs to possibly even obscure who we really are. I’ve been back in the UK from Nepal for just over a week now, and this contrast between online/physical selves and community is becoming apparent.
We have spent nearly the whole of 2022 in Nepal, and it has been really interesting, to say the least. I haven’t had to move to a “new” country and live there since I started my undergraduate degree in the UK a decade ago in 2012, so having to do this while being older and more mature/reflective is quite different, and I’ve really appreciated the opportunity. It’s always a pleasure being able to learn a new language (being able to get by), and personally, being in Nepal was particularly interesting because I look and could pass off as Nepali. Being aware of my positionality and wanting to be anti/de-colonial meant I actively and consciously reflected on my words, actions, and behaviour, something which I was definitely quite unaware of the last time I was in Nepal in 2011.
While moving to Nepal was a bit of an eye-opener, coming back to the UK was equally jarring. The wide, lifeless roads here are such a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of everyday life and relationships in the open. Sellers with their fresh vegetables and fruits displayed, shop owners and neighbours chatting over tea, the endless beeps and skill in two-wheelers manoeuvring around pedestrians and four-wheelers in narrow streets. Yes, many of the youths are strutting their stuff on TikTok and every where you turn, there’s someone posing for a photograph even if the background is not particularly scenic. But life is still mostly lived in the physical spaces, through real life interactions with neighbours, friends, and strangers.
Having turned 30 earlier this year, I’ve become a lot more conscious about life and living, about how I want to live and what I would like to achieve, and taking steps to make them happen rather than just getting swept away by the currents of life. The need for human interactions, having a sense of belonging to some community, is important for me. Though thus far, I’ve barely stayed anywhere long enough to put down roots, which seemed fine in our 20s. But going into the 30s next year on, we’ll have to think harder about the decisions we make.
While I feel like I’ve finally grown into my emotional and mental maturity, I do feel like I’m starting to sense the physical body ageing. Beginning with the slowing down of metabolic rates, and having to put in more effort to maintain an active lifestyle, plus knowing how intertwined good nutritious diets are with health and immunity, I am having to invest more time and energy in ‘self-care’. In fact, for the first time in my life, I’ve managed to make it a daily routine to put moisturiser/sun block on my face. Looking in the long-term, one does need to start looking after one’s body now to prevent problems a few decades down the road, and I decided I wanted to start training my body and keep all my muscles moving for as long as I can. Climbing is pretty good for that, but I’ve also started getting into ashtanga yoga, and really want to be able to do a handstand.
I’m glad I’ve also still managed to keep up some reading, 20+ books in the year is probably the most I’ve read in a while actually, though to be fair they were mostly (historical) fiction which I can go through the way others binge watch TV series. The best book for the year for me is probably The Nutmeg’s Curse by Amitav Ghosh, which combined facts and history with such a compelling narrative, I went on to read a few other works of his (The Hungry Tide and Sea of Poppies). For my 2023 resolution, I will endeavour to (finally) finish The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber and David Wengrow, and I’m also quite excited to read The Future is Degrowth by Aaron Vansintjan, Andrea Vetter and Matthias Schmelzer and Food for Life by Tim Spector, books which I just acquired.
Next year, I will finally finish being a student, and so they say, life begins at 30 (or 40, or whatever convenient number, really).
Jocelyne Shimin Sze 