Pre-Term: Day #8

Today’s the last day before Term actually begins, and this becomes a #Camblog for a short period of time. I can’t think of how this day could have been better. I woke up this morning and recorded a lovely episode of the podcast with my mother, which gave me a chance to think about how I dealt with some things before I came to University. You can listen to that tomorrow if you’d like. While eating breakfast I managed to catch-up with my childhood best friend after a week or so, which felt very strange especially given how we were speaking every day for nearly five months – and I went off to the Cambridge Union.

I debated during my undergraduate degree, and I enjoyed the activity. It gave me the opportunity to improve logical reasoning skills and make new friends, but it also brought back my reading habit. I don’t think I was the best debater at University, not by a long shot – but I had fun with it. When we were there, I remember discovering the debate clips from the Oxford Union and the Cambridge Union. Close friends of mine studied at Oxford and I was able to ask them what the Union there was like. I never asked friends at Cambridge about it, and I’m glad I hadn’t. This morning, I had my breath taken away from me. The Union is stunning. The building itself is just wonderful to look at, but the history – and the way it’s preserved is delightful. I was taken by the Chamber, and taken by the fact that the bicentennial debate was This House is not what it used to be.

How else to mark changing times?

They were kind enough to sponsor free ice-cream after the tour, a double-chocolate cone at Jack’s Gelato was my pick. A walk to Eddie’s to collect goodies & check my pidge, a quick stop at Sainsbury’s for some groceries, and I cycled back home to eat my lunch and finish some meetings.

The evening was actually when things really kicked off. I went to Wilko’s and picked up a kettle and some colourful pens I needed, cycled around Cambridge with a friend from Bangalore, and cycled up to Eddie’s once again – using a new route I discovered on Google Maps that makes the hill climb bearable. We played table tennis out in the rain; and I haven’t found a sport more thrilling, particularly because the wind made it seem like I had some incredible top-spin ability.

I’ve been back home for a while, and was able to catch-up with my household. Living with a family is really nice because you always come home to people – and it’s always pleasant to talk about new experiences you’re having with locals, to whom all of the foreign-ness I am experiencing must sound absurd.

Like I said earlier though – tomorrow is when Michaelmas Term begins.

From the Statutes and Ordinances of the University of Cambridge
The Michaelmas Term shall begin on 1 October and shall consist of eighty days, ending on 19 December. The Lent Term shall begin on 5 January and shall consist of eighty days, ending on 25 March or in any leap year on 24 March. The Easter Term shall begin on 10 April and shall consist of seventy days ending on 18 June, provided that in any year in which full Easter Term begins on or after 22 April the Easter Term shall begin on 17 April and end on 25 June.

To quip in Hindi, feel aata hai. These small bits of tradition give me joy – and I’m pretty eager to see how much my days change now that the University is in full-swing. I already know, for example, that tomorrow is packed with inductions and introductions, yet somehow, I need to attend a Virtual Fresher’s Fair to get to know about the Societies I want to join – and sign up to as many e-mail lists as I can. I’m also hopeful there will be free merchandise, but we shall see.

Pre-Term: Day #7

Today has been a very amusing day.

This morning I woke up and ran in the rain, which was a first for me. It’s taking some acclimatizing, and I’m being forced to pick between running quickly to warm up, and running slowly so I can actually complete a decent run. It’s very entertaining for me to look at how my head makes these decisions, and makes me more curious about seeing the inside of my brain one day. I do hope that becomes possible in my lifetime.

A solid run later, we were scheduled to walk from St. Edmund’s to Grantchester Meadows, a 3 mile walk – and so I walked to college, adding a mile to my own count for the day. Grantchester is a stunning little meadow close by to Cambridge with a little village and everything, where the Bloomsbury Group used to do a lot of thinking & writing. The walk was very pretty, and I was in excellent company, keeping me in rather good spirits in the cold and the rain (the real feel at one point said 6 degrees – so the worst is yet to come). What absolutely dampened most people’s joie de vivre was the discovery that The Orchard, our destination for the day, was shut. We walked back and I returned to the warmth of my home, hoping to spend the evening on some work.

I ended up playing some videogames and attending QuizSoc’s Fresher’s Pub Quiz – making new friends, instead. The quiz was super fun, and I really love attending new quizzes to see how innovative people get in coming up with unique rounds that they can add into their quizzes. There was a letters round today – asking you to find the letter that sets two words whose definitions were presented apart. For example, you’d see the part of the alimentary canal below the stomach; the intestine and round, circular dinnerware. That would be bowel and bowl, making the letter e the letter setting them apart. Another round was dingbats, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

A bit of work on our school’s alumni association, some international law reading, and writing this blog – and I’m a very pleased man going to bed, hoping to wake up in time for another run out in the rain.

Pre-Term: Day #6

Last night was legitimately crazy and I’ve ended up walking a whole bunch across cobblestones in my formal shoes, which is not a very pleasurable experience. This morning, I awoke to two realizations: it’s been one week since I moved out to my new home, and I’m four days away from the start of Michaelmas Term. It feels like the week has flown by with coffee meet-ups and learning Cambridge’s culture, but most of all, the week has been a lesson in the art of layering up. That’s right, not lawyering up, but layering up. I’ve understood since I’ve come here that a lot of my excuses to get out of social meet-ups when I don’t fancy going will no longer work. These are some I can no longer use:

  1. It’s raining too heavily,
  2. That’s too far away,
  3. I’m stuck in traffic,
  4. It’s too cold to meet-up.

None of these will work any longer. The weather here stops nobody, which is a testament to their character given how frigid the rain can feel. It’s also made me appreciate footballers more. On television, I always wondered why they wore gloves, and why their breath fogged up so much when it looked rather pleasant and the rain didn’t feel as heavy. I’m experiencing it all now, and trust me, I no longer understand how they play football at all.

There was a lunch meet-up and a household tea happening today which I was unable to attend owing to some work commitments (that reasoning continues to hold good here), and thus, today became a day-in. A day to rest my weary calves and thighs (barring a run in the morning), to sit, think, and work. It also allowed me to catch-up with family, cook leisurely and eat my food without wondering how to navigate to where I need to be next.

I was right. The two weeks of quarantine meant it would take me at least one week to want to stay at home. Trust me, I didn’t particularly want to either. I would have loved to go out – but sometimes the socializing urges have to give way to more practical things. I’m certain now that the art of time management is one that I’ll continuously get to work on over here.

Tomorrow I’m back out, and the forecast says it’s very cold, so I’m eager to see how things pan out.

Pre-Term: Day #5

Today was my matriculation day.
Matriculation marks the formal admission of a student to membership of the University, and means we sign a Matriculation Registration Form, promising to observe the Statutes and Ordinances of the University and to pay due respect and obedience to the Chancellor and other officers of the University.

Of course, there’s that aspect of things – the signing of a form (which has taken place electronically for the moment, and will happen in small groups at matriculation soirees). However, this was the first day I got to wear my academic gown. I’ve been a fan of tradition for a long time. While hoping for increased accessibility to people from more diverse backgrounds, Universities set themselves apart with these little traditions. Even back in India, IIT-Bombay, for example, hosts their graduation in Indian traditional outfits. I enjoy that. So wearing the academic dress was quite lovely – and to me, in this chilly weather, I started to recognize that perhaps it was born out of practicality. You know, an additional layer worn on top of formals to feel warm, but still appear formal.

The matriculation itself was just a quick little photograph; but what followed was the chance to meet two friends: one who has the same personality type as me, and another whose research interests align very closely with my own – both incredibly fun. Subsequent to that was the chance for photographs. I’m someone who is always game for photographs, but rarely know how to ask people to take them of me. I was in luck – with me were two photographer friends, both who have a wonderful eye for detail and direction, but a lot of patience too. And thus, we went around St. Edmund’s in the morning, and Cambridge at night – taking photos everywhere we pleased. It’s impossible for me to pick a favourite photo given the range we captured, from formal ones outside Trinity Lane at night, to me pretending to be a wizard with a twig. If only I had a broomstick too.

Cambridge at night has a completely different vibe to it. There’s very few people out on the streets, a lot more open space, and it’s very dimly lit. It definitely looks like Hogwarts. In my head, I always imagined the colleges themselves to be a source of light to the town. I don’t mean this figuratively, I mean it literally. They’re so large that I anticipated every room to carry a source of light and allow for the streets to be well-lit. How wrong I was. This night has been memorable though: for the company, the photographs, and the slow-cycling competition outside Gonville & Caius College (I’m glad we didn’t try doing that till the Corpus Clock).

Pre-Term: Day #4

Everybody cycles in Cambridge.

I live off-site. This means I’m not on College accommodation, or University accommodation. It’s important to remember that Cambridge is a town with people living here who have nothing to do with the University, and I’m very lucky to have found a lovely place to stay. It’s about 20 minutes by walk to both the Law Faculty, and to St Edmund’s, time that’s cut in half when you cycle. That is good enough reason to acquire one.

The story of my cycle is a story of luck, and now of love. I’ve ridden it one day and I am remembering now how much I enjoyed cycling to places inside my gated community, and how liberating it is to be able to cycle on the roads. It’s not something I’ve done before and it’s something I’m enjoying thoroughly. I’m keen to see where all I end up going with the cycle, and what all it gets to see. Bike theft occurs commonly over here – and forget that, light theft does too, which meant some expenditure on accessories to keep safe.

Having been to a picnic earlier in the week, one of the members from there was kind enough to meet me again for crepes, which provided a fine opportunity to get to know someone outside of the Faculty of Law, which I’m certain will become my social hub – especially if our meet-up this evening is anything to go by. After eating some pulao I made, I ended up going to meet what I thought would be a few, and ended up being way more than a few LLMs. Like yesterday, it opened my eyes up to the diversity in the batch. As a fresh undergraduate (having completed a degree in May), I’m one of the younger ones in the class, which is comprised of, among others, some students who have completed a PhD. In conversation with them, I understood that unlike my own conditioning – which views qualifications very linearly (undergraduate, postgraduate, doctorate, post-doctorate), a large number of societies worldwide view qualifications as merely being indicative levels of education. Consequentially, it isn’t absurd to have done a PhD and then be doing an LLM – and the LLM is often pursued with a research grant; to gain both institutional affiliation and further specialization.

Now I’m thinking of all the wonderful doors this degree opens up for me. I can only smile, and hope that more people get to experience this.

Pre-Term: Day #3

Most disappointed in myself for beginning yet another writing series and then letting it fade away two posts in. Having successfully traced back my days, I can write about them – and hopefully convey to you how much has actually transpired even before Term has begun.

I finally own my academic gown now. At Cambridge, the gown you wear depends either on what degree you already hold, or your age. Graduates of the University of Cambridge wear the gown corresponding to their Cambridge degree. As a result, as Graduate students, we have fewer variations in our style of gown as the undergraduates. The undergraduates’ gowns are so vastly different based on the course and college they are in, which makes graduation and matriculation very colourful. Outside Ryder & Amies, this institution that looks and feels quinticentially Cambridge on the inside, I saw people wearing gowns with hints of blue, and a set that was a deep blue, very distinct to others (I suspect that this is Trinity).

After a couple of appointments (banks et al), I met with some friends and went shopping for things to make my room feel like home, picking up a chest of draws/organizer, and a couple of stationery items. Wilko’s really is becoming my new favourite place and I do not think there is any other store that will compare. Barring Asda perhaps.

St. Edmund’s is being very kind and hosting a lot of Fresher’s Events adhering to the guidelines currently being supplied by the Government: the rule of six and a lot of social distancing. Today’s highlight was meeting people from the Podcasting society and discovering that was a group thing here.

The evening was just a nice, long walk (and cookies) with a fellow LLM. The diversity in this LLM class in incredible. The friend I met this evening is somebody who studied 9 years of music prior to switching over to legal education. That formal training in music must have been an incredible challenge, and the more I spoke with him, the more I came to appreciate how society can afford opportunity to people of all backgrounds – yet sometimes chooses not to. It’s difficult to imagine somebody from India studying 9 years of classical piano and then switching education streams to move onto something else, but imagine if we allowed for it by providing greater access and open-mindedness to our educational approach. How much joy would we be able to spread, if we removed the pressure of making decisions?

Pre-Term: Day #2

Today was a day of gratitude.

My morning went by in cleaning up my fountain pens to be able to inject new ink into them tomorrow, a nice Waterman Serene Blue for this term, and the foreseeable future. A few months ago, maybe sometime in June, I had discovered this lovely Pilot ink, the Iroshizuku, which had the perfect teal that matched the Cambridge Blue. If it was more affordable, I’d certainly opt-in to use that, but for now – and given that I have exams in blue, this seems best.

After replying to some e-mails I set off from my house hoping to return by 6:30, when the the forecast said the sun would be out.

This was the first damp day I ventured out in. To be frank, Cambridge hasn’t gotten terribly cold yet (it will soon, I reckon) – but the forecast was bang-on. It was damp and raining till about 1pm, when the gloom lifted and the sun came out. I was lucky that coincided with my plans – having brunch with a friend and coffee inside a church cafe with some others, prior to walking around the Backs to get to Eddie’s (that’s St Edmund’s College – where I’m based). A fun afternoon of exploring College, I left 3 books, 5 friends, piano-laden, and happier than when I arrived.

The evening, however, has been a highlight. I was able to meet somebody I had worked with and only interacted with via e-mail for three years and speak to them about my life, and theirs, and our mutual affection for common spaces. I’m brimming with joy about this – because I was a little star-struck, and I truly hope that didn’t show too much. In the night I met somebody whom I had only ever spoken to once, but somebody who helped me with my applications that I was able to say thank you to, and now begin to forge a friendship with.

There’s much I’m grateful for, but it’s this opportunity to interact with people I never thought I’d get to see in person that I’m most grateful for today. COVID has it’s challenges, and it’s important we all stay safe, but being able to set up in-person meetings, and some face-to-face coffees is probably how I’ll make the most of things.

Moodle

Moodle is an open-source learning management system. Several Universities appear to have their own variants of Moodle, versions build off of the codebase that Moodle offers. Cambridge is no different. We’ve got our own Moodle, a virtual learning environment that allows us to enrol in courses and see all the material for our courses on a single database, in conjunction with Panopto.

I first heard of Moodle when I secured a place at UCL after Grade 12. UCL had us log-in to Moodle to communicate with the University, to inform them about impending arrival dates and everything. At the time, the technology didn’t particularly strike me. I only had access to the inbox side of things, and I was amused at how much the word sounded like Noodle, which for the most part just left me feeling hungry.

Late last evening, we received an e-mail indicating to us that Moodle was now open for us to log-in to, to enrol for our courses as students who wish to participate in the evaluation of the course, or auditors. I was too committed to a Pictionary night when I got the notification, so like most others who joined in for the game, I put off navigating Moodle for today. So I arose this morning knowing I’d discover something new.

Being in self-isolation naturally means that the feeling of being in Cambridge hits you slower. Moodle sped that up about two weeks. You log-in and see a smattering of repetitions and reiterations that you’re at Cambridge, and you can see details about all the courses on offer and the ones you’re studying, which for me – really grounded my brain in about the amount of academic work this degree is going to be. I’m certain all postgraduate degrees are the same way: a lot of rigorous, critical thinking, but boy did it hit me earlier than I anticipated it would. For a moment I was worried that perhaps I rode my luck a little too much during my undergraduate course but seeing reading lists and listening to Professors offer reassurances that prior knowledge is not assumed was rather helpful. In the least it will mean I can tackle the readings to gain foundational knowledge on which my term can build.

It made things very real, and for most of the rest of my day, I navigated Moodle to look at all of the material it stores and the range of ways it enables faculty to interact with us.

In the evening though, I had a puzzling thought. I wondered whether an attempt to create a Moodle would be ridiculed back in India. I look back at less-visually appealing attempts my own University administration made and all the various intranets we had, and I cannot recall being as awed by it. I’m fairly certain that unless forced to, we would not have used it at all. So why am I so thrilled when a University abroad creates an intranet portal that stores information?

My conclusion is this. I never properly utilized the intranet during my undergrad. If I had actually explored it’s full potential, I would perhaps have been equally taken aback. I know the library system at University shocked me when I realized everything was catalogued on our intranet and I could figure out if a book was available without walking till the library.

I missed that opportunity earlier, so tomorrow I shall wake up and navigate through more of Moodle and understand how it continues to survive open-source.

Living out YouTube

It’s now been five days since I moved to the United Kingdom. I’m still in self-isolation. In accordance with the NHS guidance, every day, I take a walk downstairs in my garden to get some fresh air. There’s a massive garden in the apartment complex I’m currently residing in, which gives me a wonderful view of the rest of the city while respecting my self-isolation restrictions.

This evening, on my walk, the prevailing thoughts that came to my head were largely centered around the fact that the life I will live and experience for the next nine months is a life that I’ve only previously seen on YouTube.

YouTube is a wonderful medium. I’ve expressed this sentiment before, but the true joy of short film for me is the perspective we receive. Watching vlogs gives you the opportunity to look at life through somebody else’s eyes, and documentaries and film always give you the chance to examine a character’s take on circumstances around them. I have loved YouTube for democratizing the content creation space for a long time now, and I’m grateful to have lived in a post-YouTube world for most of my childhood. I remember watching Ryan Higa and Dancing Turtle videos back in 2007, and the platform’s influence on my life grew massively when I was in Grades 9 and 10, largely owing to how much music I discovered there.

However, in that period of my life, I discovered several vloggers, and began to watch these videos of students in University towns in different cities. I claimed this assisted my research, enabling better decision-making when the time came for me to apply to University. In all honesty though, the vlogs were just ways of looking at different cities from a 20-something year-old’s view. I found the Oxvlog project, and Simon Clark, and all the Camvlogs and Jake Wright, which provided fuel to my UCAS application when I was younger. A few years later I discovered PaigeY, IbzMo and Ali Abdaal, who provided these wonderful views of Cambridge.

This afternoon, from my garden, I saw Spoon’s. The Regal Wetherspoon was a place Jake frequented in his vlogs, largely for dinner, and seeing it was surreal because although I was outside and rather far away from the place, I knew exactly what the interiors looked like, and what kind of discounts to anticipate once I showed them my student ID card. I saw a Nando’s and instantly Example & Ed Sheeran’s rap, The Nando Skank, began to play in my head.

This is just the beginning, but it really does feel strange to be in the locations I’ve only seen on YouTube. I remember in 2018, when one of my seniors moved to Oxford, my YouTube knowledge meant I knew about the closest pharmacy to her College. I used YouTube to learn about all this. My dad uses Google Maps. He’s given me some restaurant references already, and I’m sure he’ll know the geography of this place really soon, which I appreciate, because it means I have to explain less about my locality to him. It’s weird though. I’m living a YouTube life.

I’m not one for making films, but maybe this marks a opportune time to begin.

Dear Bengaluru

Dear Bengaluru,

This evening, your skies turned a dull grey, and ever since, you’ve been crying. It’s almost as if you’re preparing for me for where I will be next, as you’ve done ever since I’ve been done. I know the real reason for your tears is that you’re sad that I’m leaving. Believe me, I am too.

I’ve been struggling to come up with the right words to say Goodbye. For the past week, knowing that I’d be departing today, I’ve been thinking about how to tell you about every feeling you’ve given me that I’ll miss – and how to tell you that this isn’t really Goodbye, and that there are no Goodbyes. I’ve been wondering how to communicate that this isn’t a full stop, but a comma on a sentence that’s still writing itself. Each night I’ve come up short. I don’t have another night, and so I shall tell you how I feel, and I hope you feel the same way.

We were acquaintances till I was 10 years old. We flirted, yes – for a month every single year, but nothing really materialized. I don’t know if you believe in the stars, but I do, and I know that they weren’t aligned at the time. Every time we met I’d burst in with excitement and energy, and you’d sap it all away with your rains, the insects, the dirt. You’d tire me out with the traffic, the smell, the sound. I’d leave each time knowing I was going back to someone who gave me all the comforts you couldn’t offer. I’d leave each time knowing that it was not meant to be. You had bowled everybody in the family over, my dad included. Not me.

I can’t quite put my finger on what changed in 2008, but I spent a month flirting with you and I knew you were the place I wanted to call home. I knew, from the moment my world spun upside down and brought me to you that we would be okay. That we would last. To my idealistic mind, you could do no wrong, so I told myself I would try to do no wrong either, to prolong our association. There are forces in this world that are beyond our comprehension, and my pulse, when I saw you on that June evening, slowed. It steadied in gratitude.

So for the last 12 years of my life, I have tried to live with that pulse. I look back this evening and I know I have faltered at times. I was not grateful when you decided to give me the long road I had to travel to school, nor when you belatedly gifted me a bridge to smoothen my ride. Nor was I grateful when the closest grocery shop was more than six kilometres away. I know I did not display gratitude in my first year with you, when you offered up tempermental transitions in weather. Nor when livestock stopped me from getting deeper into your heart – the center of the city.

I know I was not grateful when Namma Metro arrived in a purple ribbon as a consolation prize for missing several anniversaries.

I look back tonight and all of this seems so pointless.

Since I was 10 you have given me family. Falling in love with you meant learning your history and stories, learning the language better, learning about my identity, learning about community – and gaining a stronger sense of acceptance from my family. You have introduced to me people I would not have had the opportunity to meet anywhere else in the world, and people whom I would not have wanted to meet elsewhere. People who loved you more than I, people who loved you, and lost you, people who begrudged you, who disliked you thoroughly. You seemed not to care what they thought of you, turning a blind eye to their opinion because of your love for them. You did swalpa adjustment, I know – but you made me find my place when someone called you overrated and I lashed out at them without hesitation, caring not for the consequences. When I left for short periods, to study at University, you gave me family there too – a family I love deeply, with whom talking about you felt like a Bengaluru Anonymous meeting, with all of us relapsing in the middle of the semester by flying back to you.

You gave me food and provided me shelter when I needed it the most, when I felt like everything else around me was crumbling away in the abyss – you were my anchor, my rock. Visiting a gaadi, eating dosas, chaats, and Corner House. You have given me a lifetime of exercise I need to do to get in shape.

You gave me your weather, and with it your soul. I know that in my first year I called it temperamental, but my goodness, you beauty. You have spoilt me for all eternity and I do not know if I will be the same anywhere else in the world, with anybody else. I love how comfortable you made everybody feel, exhibiting the Goldilocks principle in practice – you were just right. Not too hot, not too cold.

I have loved you so intensely that I am unsure if I will love like this again. Yet for that, I thank you.

I thank you because you were only the second place I called home – and the only place I thought of when I thought of Home. I thank you because you have set the bar so high that I am unsure if anything can live up to the billing. I thank you because you know, like you always do – that now is the right time to let go, and that you didn’t wait for the last night possible to say it. You said it six months ago, when you clinged on to me in the middle of a global pandemic and held on so tight, knowing that we’d have to part ways. You said it all when you allowed me to live with you and spend time with you alone, something I have desired for years now.

As I said earlier though, Bengaluru, this is not a goodbye. This is an au revoir – till we see each other again. This is a hogbarthini, because I’m just now only going – but I’ll be back soon to see you. This is a solpahottu bit siganna, because our time might be over for now, but you will always be in my heart.

Please be kind to everybody you take in. Please be yourself. It’s what people like I have thrived on.

So I won’t stop writing you letters, and I’ll keep calling your name. This isn’t a break-up of any kind, it’s a pause, I’m just switching lanes.

I hope you feel the same way.

Till next time,

Love,

Tejas

Writing Fatigue

Over the last two weeks, my time has been spent writing applications of different kinds. As a result, I haven’t blogged about anything. Most days I’ve felt like there hasn’t been anything to write about, but on the days where I felt I did have a story to share, the amount of energy spent on writing application essays, or e-mails drained me. I haven’t experienced that as much in the past three years. When I started out this blog, I felt like I’d never tire of writing, or of sharing. Yet now, spending so much time in front of my computer, with my keyboard, I do feel drained.

There are different ways to address this I suppose. Taking time away from writing has helped me out in the past, and there’s nothing to suggest that won’t work this time around. However, there’s also the other angle to everything – that if I don’t write, and I continue to use my fatigue as an excuse for not writing, I may perpetuate an everlasting cycle of not writing at all. That wouldn’t sit well with me, particularly given my affinity for attempting to catch my rainbows with this blog.

Naturally, I’m going to force myself back into my writing.

I’m also doing this because I’m acutely aware of what the next month might bring with it – and it’s not something I want to leave uncaptured.

Autopilot: Breakfast Edition

While speaking to my mother earlier in the day, she told me how she was thrilled that I was able to enjoy the same breakfast every day. Well, virtually every day. As far back as I can remember in this lockdown, I’ve eaten the same food for breakfast each morning. Cereal.

Speaking to another friend in the evening, I was telling him how the past four months have been this massive experiment in my life, all pointed toward answering the question: if I was given all the time in the world, how would I use it?

We’ve often heard about these industry leaders who declutter their brains by delegating or removing unimportant decisions in their life. Prominent examples include Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg – with their wardrobes. Net-net, the goal appears to be some form of freeing up brain space.

I’ve been thinking about that a fair amount – how much of my life can I set into autopilot? What decisions can I eliminate from my life to retain the same, or increase the amount of joy I receive, while being more efficient? My initial response was that I didn’t want to set anything in autopilot because I personally enjoy the process of decision-making a fair amount.

However, given my difficult relationship with my mornings, I’ve figured out that the more I can bring myself to enjoy it – the more I can work on changing that relationship. One way I wanted to do that was to go back to where I was when I was in school – my morning breakfasts were a quick bowl of cereal before running off to the bus. I enjoyed that bowl of cereal a lot, because my mum would sit opposite me and ask me about what the day had in store. When I was studying, morning breakfasts were a bit of breathing time before the day’s onslaught.

The only reason I’ve gone into autopilot mode with cereal is to recreate that feeling. I’m reaping the rewards of it.