I spent most of my Master’s working. I’d be in the college study room all day, but I rarely began looking at slides and scripts before 4 PM. Minimizing the time I spent studying forced me to focus on the essentials.
I’d go through the material end-to-end, try to capture every page in one sentence, then memorize my four, eight, or ten pages of summary. I walked up and down in the hallway, remembered what I could, then showed up to the exam. Most of the time, it worked well enough.
I sat on the floor a lot, too, in that same hallway. Occasionally, there weren’t any seats left in the study room. I’d just plop down next to a plug, charge my laptop, and go. Back against the wall, feet stretched out. Working.
Right now, I’m leaning against the wooden headboard of a bed in a room in a three-star hotel. I’m attending my best man’s wedding in an hour. It’s a little bit comfier here than on the floor of Munich’s university—but not too much. That’s a good thing.
Sometimes, it’s good to have your back against the wall. Maybe not in an “I have no idea how to get out of this situation”–sense, but definitely in a “there’s not much to work with here”–sense. Reduce the conveniences. Afford yourself the minimum. Eat ramen on purpose.
The thing about a back resting against a wall is that it’s always straight. You can’t slouch, drag, or bend. Your shoulders, your feet, the rules. Posture has a way of carrying through to our minds. He who has little to work with tends to stand up, do his best, and accept whatever result may follow.
You don’t need portafilter coffee to start your day. You don’t need an agent to sell your book to a publisher. And you don’t need to sit in a zen garden to write good stuff. Special is nice, but special is optional.
You can win with your back against the wall. Most likely, you might do so because of it.
