Perpetual Wonder

Didn’t see that one coming

Bastiaan Reinink — Sun, 19 May 2013 21:50:32 +0000

I was too slow.

Or he was too fast.

This is what it looks like when everything is going well

Whichever it was, I didn’t see it coming. Didn’t know what hit me until I was down (luckily not out).

A silence came over those gathered, then people rushed in to ask whether I was ok. I was able to get up, I was able to smile. Couldn’t be too bad. Still, it hurt!

This was during my latest capoeira festival. A day of workshops, playing, learning. Finished with a few rounds of friendly sparring. I stepped into the roda (the circle in which capoeira is played). Brazilian tunes, clapping, song, everything to get a good energy.

He kicked, I ducked, counter-kick over his head, swinging around, getting up. Right in the path of a foot. That I had not seen coming!

So now my face is slightly more purple than it usually is. It hurts, but only a bit. It looks as though a pair of thugs had an end-of-the-world-party on my eye however. But I guess the two worst things were that I couldn’t play anymore for the remaining half an hour of the festival, and that I’m not quite hurt enough to wear a pirate eye-patch…

I actually chose to play capoeira because I didn’t want to get all bruised… Sometimes we don’t get what we ask for I guess…

Of course, this is what happens in life. Sometimes you get hurt. Does that mean you should stop? Does it mean that I should stop playing capoeira? Of course not! I might be slightly more careful, but next week I’ll be out there again (blue eye and all), kicking ass (well, air. It is a no-contact sport after all. Officially.).

I really think it’s more important to get up with a smile than never to fall at all.

I am going to work on my reflexes though!

Better late than never?

Bastiaan Reinink — Fri, 17 May 2013 08:14:46 +0000

This world is full of bad, irritating, stupid, nasty and irritating things (like people using the same word twice in an enumeration!).

Some you can do something about. If it’s a mess in my house I can clean it up. If I don’t like the look of my shoes I can buy new ones. Don’t complain, fix it!

I think I’m going to buy this for some very -special- friends…

Some things you can’t do anything about. If it’s raining, no chance in hell that I am going to be able to do anything towards making the sun shine. If the government makes a stupid decision (and they inevitably do) the amount of effort do rectify it is astronomical (not impossible, just not worth it in general). Don’t complain, go on with life!

For these two cases everything is relatively clear-cut. Either take your responsibility and change whatever it is that is bothering you, or put it out of your head and continue with what you were doing.

Unfortunately there are also some “in between” cases. These mostly have to do with people who are close enough that you have some influence on them. But of course you can’t control their actions (no matter how much we would like to. And no matter how much better this would be for the person in question…).

One of my “favorite” examples of this is people who are late. I’m neurotically compulsive where it come to time. It’s valuable and I don’t like wasting it (did I mention I was Dutch?!?). Other people however seem to have far less of a problem with wasting time. Especially mine.

5 minutes late is fine. 10 minutes is irritating. At 20 I’m about ready to get up and leave. (Can you imagine how much fun I had in South America, where arriving late is the national pastime?)

Actually, when I was in South American I had far less problems with people being late. I wasn’t trying to be efficient anyway, so it mattered less. I guess the Netherlands just brings out the “best” in me…

The problem is, I can’t really do anything about it at that moment. Because it’s not within my power to make someone be on time. Especially not if they’re not actually there (they’re late, right?). I can bring it up after they arrive. But at that time I’m usually just happy to see them and I let it drop. Of course, next time they won’t have a reason to be more on time, because last time they were late and I didn’t seem to mind (that much…).

I’m trying hard to get this into the “don’t complain, carry on” box. Good for my sense of zen (I’m hoping). But do me a favor: Next time we have a meeting, be there on time. I’ll love you for it!

Worst job ever

Bastiaan Reinink — Sat, 11 May 2013 11:51:57 +0000

Yesterday I was in a meeting with some people. I’m in meetings with people a lot, so this wasn’t that special. We (my team) wanted something from the other people (nothing stranger there either so far). Specifically we wanted some data. That’s not true, we didn’t want some data, we wanted a lot. In fact, we wanted more data than has been produced in written form in all of human history before 1900. This had to come from different sources. Mixed and matched together so that we could play around with it.

But if you’re all out, money will do

So we discussed data-fields, servers, creating joins, SQL queries and what-not.

The whole process took about an hour. And in the end it seemed that everybody was happy with what was going to be provided and how and where.

This meeting made me realize two things.

First, I was so glad that there was someone else doing this work. I couldn’t think of anything more tedious than running around in large databases, grabbing data, checking it, etc. and then packaging it nicely so that someone else can do the cool work with it.

But these people seemed happy, intrigued even! They were looking forward to this very specific challenge. And I’m sure that they would’ve hated to do my job, which was to produce a nice model to run with the data.

So my first insight: No matter how shitty you think a job is, there is someone who actually enjoys doing it!

The second was that I recognized a lot of myself in these people. Not the specifics, but more on a general level. They were throwing around a lot of terms that I only half understood (and can’t remember right now). They were talking about processes of which I had no knowledge whatsoever.

I wrote again! Yesterday morning in the train, just for 20 minutes, but I did. And it felt wonderful! Maybe my train-time will be a bit happier / more productive in the future as well…

And I could see myself, perhaps a few years younger (perhaps not), enthusiastically blabbering about statistical distributions, goodness-of-fit-tests, fourth moments, etc. And I could see the people (mostly from slightly higher up in the tree) sitting opposite me, their eyes glazed over, staring off into space.

They didn’t care about my wonderful distributions. They needed to understand just enough to make sure that the job actually was getting done. The hows and wheres were something for me (and the rest of the team) to figure out. Just give us the results already!

So second insight: No matter how important you think what you’re doing is, there will be people who really couldn’t care less.

Conclusions: Find the people who enjoy the work you hate and don’t bother me with the details, just give me the data already!

Of cavemen and contacts

Bastiaan Reinink — Wed, 08 May 2013 06:44:48 +0000

Back in the good old days (when we spent our time running after buffalo or looking for mushrooms and edible roots), I would’ve been an old and wise man now (running around after buffalo prevents people from becoming much older than 30? (Or perhaps the lack of modern medicine had something to do with it…)).

Dating was so much easier then… Just club a nice girl over her head and drag her to your cave…

Well, actually, I would not have been an old and wise man. I would have been dead.

You see, I’m defective. My eyesight is quite poor enough to miss a buffalo until the moment it’s ready to spike me on its horns. Back in the good old days I would’ve been spiked on some horns, missed the lion in the high grass or walked by a field of tasty mushrooms and missed them completely.

Luckily, what would’ve been deadly some 100.000 years ago, is only a minor nuisance nowadays.

First thing in the morning, wake up, get out of bed, hit my foot against the lamp standing next to my bed, curse, hobble to the bathroom, put in my contacts. Look back at the lamp that I suddenly can see perfectly clearly. Curse again.

But it wasn’t always this easy. The first time I had to put in my contacts it took me exactly seven minutes, three seconds (eye one) and nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds (eye two).

That was some seven years ago. And I’ve been putting in my contacts a lot since then (give-or-take once per day). I got good at it! I got so good at it, I can do it with my eyes closed (proverbially of course. Kids, don’t try putting your contacts in with your eyes closed!).

Which gets me to the subject of this post (what? Already?!?). I’ve been having some trouble. I can’t do it. It doesn’t click. It’s impossible!

I’m getting my house back! I was always going to get my house back, but now it’s definite: As of the first of July I’m living at my own place again, yay! (In case you have no clue what this is about, it’s a complicated story involving trips to the other side of the world, friends who become partners, and a girl on the side. I’ll tell you all about it some other time. Maybe…)

I’m trying to learn to improvise on different chords on my saxophone. And it’s not working! I have to concentrate on the notes that I’m playing, so I lose track of the music and the rhythm. Or I focus on the music, but then my hands won’t move in any semblance of order and just a cacophony comes out. Or I get the rhythm just right and the notes are somewhat reasonable, but it is in no way connected to the background music.

It sucks! It’s frustrating! I want to quit, lie in my bed and not get out until the world is a better and fairer place (and music got easier).

I also know that playing the saxophone is like putting your contacts in (if you do it poorly, you start to cry). Lots of practice makes closer and closer to perfect. So practice it is (my poor, poor neighbors!). And bit by bit I’m sure I’m getting better. Slowly but steadily it’ll start to work.

Not quite there yet though. And it makes me want to poke my eyes out (though I should’ve done that seven years ago, would’ve saved me a lot of trouble then).

A stroll down memory lane

Bastiaan Reinink — Sat, 04 May 2013 11:12:35 +0000

I do not boast a particularly good memory. I tend to forget why I walked into the kitchen, I always misplace my keys and I couldn’t tell you what I did the day before yesterday (hell, I couldn’t tell you what day it was the day before yesterday without actually looking at my calendar).

This would be my current favorite picture, Taken in Allausi, Ecuador. Both for the beauty of it and the memories attached…

I tend to live in the future and to a somewhat lesser extend in the present. Plans an enjoying myself right now are way more important than “what came before”. Still, our past shapes our present and in the present we create the future. The past is important.

Not only that, it can be a great source of joy!

A while back I ordered print-outs of the prettiest pictures I had taken in the past two years or so (mostly on vacation, but some during slightly more mundane moments as well). They arrived shortly after that, at which point I shoved them into my closet, “to do something with later” (did I tell you I live mostly in the future?).

Today was later!

I went through all the pictures (some 400 I think) and picked out the best of the best, to hang on my wall. The result is a wall filled with beauty.

The result is a wall filled with happiness!

Quite a while back I formulated a theory: There are two kinds of happiness. The first is the everyday “I had a nice day today, but I won’t remember it in a weeks time”. The second is of the “I did something so incredibly amazing, I will remember this the rest of my life!” kind. Both are important; the first builds the energy to allow you to do the second.

This is where I was hiking in the Andes with my best friend!
Look at that beautiful orange gown the monk is wearing!
A snapshot of my friend from Ireland, how would he be doing right now?
The old man sitting on his chair, looking like nothing could faze him while at the same time seeming to own the world…
The beautiful kids that I tought English to in Peru (and after one and a half hours of struggling were able to pronounce “dress” (for a certain value of “being able to pronounce”)

I could go on like this for a while. About 400 pictures worth of going on, actually.

Sure there are always bad times in anybody’s life. But this wall of pictures makes me realize just how many more good times there were!

Memory lane really is a nice place for a stroll…