11 Jun It´s time

With long strides, she walks toward us and stands directly in front of us. In her hand, she holds a wooden staff topped with a silver spike that rattles proudly as she moves it. With grand gestures, she urges us, the simple audience, to stand. The door to the right opens. Eight long black robes, bearing the St. Andrew’s Crosses of Amsterdam on the sleeves, enter the hall with grandeur. On their heads, they wear square berets. They take their seats in stately wooden pews at the front left. The beadle, as the master of ceremonies is officially called, steps aside, and the performance can begin.

Thesis
A little earlier, my daughter had reduced her thesis to a Dutch plea that everyone could understand. “You have all most likely encountered work done by a migrant in the last 24 hours,” she begins. “Perhaps your flowers were packed by a migrant this morning, or you received a package that a migrant picked up from the warehouse last night and brought to your doorstep this morning.” She explains the reason for her research on the housing of migrants, from the moment they enter the Netherlands to how their living situation develops over the years. She cites several harrowing cases of migrants who have become homeless or ended up in miserable circumstances. She also explains how this can happen: often, work, housing, and health insurance are offered as a single package by a temporary employment agency or company. This seems attractive, but if the migrant loses their job, they immediately find themselves on the street.

The professors in black robes take their turn, one by one, to congratulate her and also to ask critical questions about her thesis. “Thank you for your kind words, dear opponent,” my daughter says before answering. She stands calm and firm, but without any extra emphasis. School friend Jac later says he found her sovereign. “Yes,” I think to myself, “that’s the right word.”

Ritual
In the middle of a response, the beadle comes forward again and taps the floor with her staff. “Hora est,” she says imperiously, “it is time.” In solemn silence, the robes leave the room. As an audience, we are impressed by the ritual. Of course, it is a play, left over from a bygone era. But at the same time, it marks the extraordinary situation: the conclusion of a four-year investigation.

Mark the transition is a variation of the second instruction of Time Surfing, which essentially states: Be aware of what you´re doing and accept it. Consciously conclude your previous action and just as consciously choose the next task. This will help you see the newly chosen task, whatever it may be, as the most important of the moment.

Mark the transition
When you’ve completed something important to you, it’s nice to mark it and take the time to do so. We do this with birthdays, anniversaries, or promotions. But it’s also nice to do at less formal occasions. For example, if your idea was selected. Or if you reunite with an old friend. Or simply because it was such a lovely day. You could buy a bouquet of flowers or arrange for lemonade cupcakes.

In the evening, it’s my turn to give a speech. The setting is now an informal hall in Amsterdam East. I tell the audience about the building blocks that led to my daughter’s success. I remember them so clearly, partly because they are etched in my memory.

*This post has been automatically translated from Dutch