What Are the First Benefits of Living a Life of a Generalist?

After swiftly packing and writing an application for summer school through the night before heading to Tanzania, I firmly pledged to prioritize rest before my next journey. And guess what?

It’s 3 AM, I’m seated amidst a heap, working on a manuscript for my job, and there’s a train to catch by 7 AM. Apparently, I still have some growing up to do.

A few more insights: Lately, with genuine joy, I’ve realized that my strategy of broad learning across various subjects and disciplines during my studies is paying off, at least for now. I recall friends and family questioning my diverse pursuits—algorithmics, developmental psychology, cancer radiation, topology, sexology, quantum mechanics—almost daily, over six years. While others secured scholarships, I was engrossed in gaining a well-rounded understanding. 

According to Leahey, Beckman and Stanko (2017), scientists who work across disciplines publish less often but tend to become more prominent and widely cited.

Now, years later, this approach is proving valuable. Recently, I embarked on a project involving statistics, math, graphs, and programming.

Despite lacking a formal fMRI data analysis course, which forms the project’s foundation (I can’t divulge further due to its relevance to my Ph.D. work), 

I find that every concept I’ve encountered finds a place. Each idea I learned, though in different contexts, now resonates collectively, allowing me to synthesize information rapidly.

According to Taylor and Greve (2006), individuals who combine knowledge across multiple domains can produce more novel outputs than a coordinating team, since one broad-minded person recombines diverse ideas more fluidly. It’s as if I can quickly assemble something worthy of publication in a reputable magazine.

What Is “The Article 9” and Why Does It Matter?

Simultaneously, I somehow cleared the qualifications screening for a Laboratory Animal Science course. Sounds innocent, but it’s crucial: without it, you can’t obtain the so-called Article 9, which is essential for conducting animal experiments in the Netherlands. Without it, you’re limited to assisting others’ experiments, even if you have your own idea and resources. 

Many students had to give up experiments and their doctorate due to these strict rules. Background in physiology and anatomy is mandatory, which I didn’t have. Yet, with a tailored list of biology-related courses and some creative adjustment, I managed to surpass the bar.

How Am I Fighting and Winning Against Weaknesses and Complexes?

I’m proud of myself. Despite naysayers in the lab, I brushed off doubts, good for my morale. I felt an inner confidence that my intuition about self-management was right.

In every field, I did what was necessary to reach my goals. After my college journey, I’m confident enough to tackle any challenge—be it nursing school, Russian intelligence, or a NASA mission.

I’m not suggesting this strategy is always perfect; neuroscience is a unique field, after all. Yet, I recently attended a science achievement lecture where the speaker openly advised: if you’re unsure in college, explore everything. Wise words.

Furthermore, I’ve realized that when you collaborate well with people, even seemingly mundane topics become intriguing. Initially, I treated the fMRI aspect of my PhD as secondary; it didn’t delve much into neuron behavior. But after engaging with experts in this field, I sensed their deep involvement.

Just like me, they’re genuinely fascinated by psychopathology and could discuss it endlessly. This motivated me to excel. Sometimes, I wonder why some places have distant and cold interactions, while others foster teamwork.

According to Edmondson (1999), teams where members feel safe taking interpersonal risks show measurably more learning behavior and better performance. My current and previous jobs are worlds apart in this regard.

How Am I Slowly Learning to Fix My Own Problems?

Finally, among the things working in my modest life, I’m gradually stepping into automating tasks that have always been daunting. Handling my own computer used to feel like performing brain surgery, and I’d rather entrust repairs to experts.

Or that’s how it used to be. It all changed when my boyfriend, who used to handle these tasks, disappeared, leaving me helpless. 

Today, I realized how much has shifted. Faced with accidentally deleted sound drivers, I confidently opened my laptop, noted the model, downloaded drivers, and within three minutes, it was back to normal.

A mere six months ago, I wouldn’t have touched a driver for anything. The newfound ability brings joy and a sense of independence. While others naturally fix their devices, for me, it was a struggle—perhaps because I believed I wasn’t capable.

Now, I tackle Linux installations and even handle ‘sudo’ commands without hesitation. Breaking these self-imposed stereotypes is liberating.

What Does It Feel Like to Finally Respect Myself?

Overall, nurturing self-respect and self-love feels incredibly healthy. I sometimes ponder if there’s a better state than this. As a child, I grappled with complexes and unhappiness.

According to Neff (2003), treating yourself with the same kindness you’d offer a friend is a core, learnable component of psychological well-being.

As an adult, I was often in relationships, mostly not-so-happy ones. Dependency on others brought hurt, most of the time. 

Now, for the first time, I’m free of these issues. No more complexes, nobody dictating my life with mood swings or dampening dreams. While this might not be a lifelong state, I wouldn’t be distraught if it were, because my current mindset keeps me in pretty good spirits.