Here I am at the end of an intense study term, and I'm diving under for a big feat: the hardest exam I've ever written, for the hardest course I've ever taken. Writing this post - long overdue - was one of my decided break activities in my planned 12-hour work day. (Day one of 5 :S)
Studying mathematics rigorously has really taught me a lot about myself, mostly about how I think (or fail to). If not for a deep love and fascination for the topic, I would have jumped ship long ago. I'm forever humbled by (and envious of) the prodigies whose natural aptitude lies in mathematical reasoning. Here comes me the writer trying to piece together the story that the beautiful logic makes, and it's quite a mess.
I've realized amidst this, though, that I am a writer at heart. As November passed and I revived my story-telling habits, I realized that, had I to chose one thing to give my life to, it would be writing.
Meanwhile, though, there's so much to learn in mathematics, and by that I don't mean theorems and proofs and calculation techniques. Learning how to organize my thoughts has been an important sort of "mental yoga", an often unpleasant experience of wrestling down faulty logic so that what is true and sound comes out on top. The best part of this: it's transfered to my writing, my daily life, and through it I feel I am growing as a person.
Alright. Break's over. The nice thing is when this is done - December 10th - I will be launching full-swing on the novel I've started. Boy, I can't wait. I aim to finish the manuscript (or at least get to 50,000 words) by January. But I must confess, after I reach my 5000 word goal for each day, I'll be doing some math problems. After all, I might be a writer at heart, but my love for math will never be far away. In fact, on this road I'm coming to know as my life, they make good companions.