[Title of Blog]

These are two things that I often find myself struggling with.  I always enter a phase full of energy, hope, and thoughts about the things that could happen.  My head is always full of the same thoughts: the things I could make happen, the things I could do, the things I could learn, and so on.  Invariably however, I run out of steam at around the third week, and start to grow despondent  about my state.  It happens when you don’t see any results coming, or the slog starts hitting you.  Or sometimes it just doesn’t seem interesting anymore.  What is it like?  Let’s take tennis for an analogy.  Sure, everyone wants to hit like Roger, Rafa, Justine, and the rest.  But say you spent a month practicing your strokes, and (as more often is the case) you still shank balls half the time.  It’s pretty discouraging, and the feeling is tough to shake off.

What’s the difference?  I suppose that in tennis, you aren’t going at it alone.  There are people you’re hitting with, or a coach, or parents, who support you and push you to keep going at it.  Or maybe you’re strong enough to be your own motivation (and those are the people who I have a lot, a lot of respect for).  In most of my endeavors in which I have been successful, there was this aspect of someone else pushing me, driving me.  I guess I’m pretty bad at dealing with disappointment, alone.  Usually, I shut down to some degree.  Distract myself with starcraft, reddit, or other things.  It’s a poor attitude, and probably means I’m not suited (in my current form) for long-term commitments, or at least, research.

This has happened to me a frighteningly high number of times in the past.   It happened to some extent during my present UROP, when I wasn’t getting anywhere with my problem.  But this time, I think I got better.  Instead of wasting time, I actually managed to get other stuff done - read other math, think about photography, exercise.  I think I have spent my time rather well in the last few weeks.  Hopefully, this will go for

I’m currently reading a book called Discrete Thoughts.  One of the authors is Gian-Carlo Rota, a former professor of Combinatorics at MIT.  Reading his essays in this book has been extremely helpful in reviving my own enthusiasm for learning maths.  I guess that’s all you need, really, when things go sour.  Something to fall back on, and remind yourself why you loved something in the first place.  It’s hard to sit back and reflect on that here, at the Institute, where there are so many things going on, and so many assignments to complete.  We - or, at least I - often lose sight of what it was that first excited us about it all.  Maybe we should all spend some time to try and remember it again.