Another year has come to an end. I'm not typically the one to claim that time slips away unnoticed. To me, each year tends to feel quite substantial, full, and distinct from the others. Every year brings something noteworthy – a new addition to the family, a change of residence, venturing into online business, completing a PhD thesis, securing the first project and establishing a team, or initiating a seminar for high school students. There was always a defining element that set each year apart, making them significant. Something where I invested my energy, something I explored, something I built.
However, the year 2023 was different. For the first time in my life, I found myself lacking life energy. While I've always had my share of ups and downs, this time I settled on a level that I would mark "below borderline" in the review process. Not terrible, but certainly not filled with awe and enthusiasm. Two years of COVID with a full-time job and a small kid, night shifts, Kickstart, and stressful communication (or rather non-communication) with my teenage girls that already lasts for almost 2 years had finally beaten me. The daily routine, mounting tasks, and the inability to instigate significant changes to our lives made me feel like I wasn't steering the wheel of my life boat. The feeling that we just repeat what we have already learnt which is way less fun than exploring and learning. Adding to that desilusion from work. Numerous unpublished works and the sense that we could never keep pace with the researchers in Google, OpenAI, or NVidia, who recently became our direct research competitors as their research goals are getting more and more aligned to ours. It felt as though whatever energy I invested didn't yield the expected returns. Perhaps I wasn't as adept at my work as I envisioned, or maybe I wasn't the exceptional mother I aspired to be. Even worse, maybe I am a mediocre researcher, terrible mother, annoying partner, and boring friend. It's that moment when you realize you haven't achieved anything significant, and you may never do so. Some might call it a midlife crisis.
On top of that, this year made me feel my age. I discovered that I couldn't work until 2 or 3 AM anymore. It could be because, after three years of inadequate sleep, my body refuses anything less than six hours, or it could be that I can't find enough motivation to work hard, feeling like I'm destined to be a mediocre researcher who never achieves anything groundbreaking.
Don't take it the wrong way. This year was filled with great experiences
and wonderful people. I also began to actually feel less tired than in the years
before. I worked on my self care by sleeping better, going for cross-country skiing one day trips, going on bike to work, listening to interesting podcasts, reading more books and having more dates with Jan. It was just as if the reservoir of my energy had emptied and it takes time to fill it back. I was missing this magical spark that was always driving me forward.
Also I put quite some energy trying to move our group forward, investing time in research to see if we can achieve something. Improving our group culture by planning, retrospective and review meetings, and setting up demo deadlines and common implementation days seemed to be the right step forward. I had big plans, but realized that I am now not in the state to achieve big things. Even when I got way more time for my work, I could not achieve anything remarkable. I first will have to recharge.
In July, we finally (after years of planning) traveled to Ladakh. I wrote a lot about this trip. It was way more than I hoped for. Its beautiful nature, interesting culture, but especially the spirit of the people. How significant was this trip I realized especially when I came back. It moved my heart. The warmth of Ladakhi people was something that is indescribable. You have to experience it. Robert still talks about Ladakh, sailing back there in his imaginary boat, and expresses a strong desire to visit Ladakh again. There's something truly special about it.
Afterwards, we went with our girls on bikes to Berlin, and it was fun. The summer felt like real life. I again felt like a happy balanced person. But we cannot live the whole time in our summers. Or can we?
It is hard to explain the gratefulness that I felt in the autumn when Terka reacted to our question if she wants to do something with us after 2 years finally positively. She wanted to go climbing with us, next week to go racing cars, she watched a movie with me, and a month later she came with the proposal that she would like to travel somewhere with us. I was several times looking up to the sky and thanking for this. Thanking for this hope that I really needed to be able to find hard ground under my feet again and start to go forward and at some point maybe run again.
I wish I would know what I should do.
It seemed to me this year that taking finally some break from work might be now a good step. Especially after the summer time, when I could not find much motivation to start again doing some real progress at work. I guess the break could help.
To find what I want to do with my life.
To gain new energy to fly.
To make the next years again significant.
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