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I'm not running off to the farm... yet.

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I have always loved a good refrain. My family and I have our favorite expressions that we repeat regularly, and my dad and I especially return to apt metaphors again and again. For me, it is sailing, choosing and adjusting a course, and for my dad, it is a boxing match.

One of my father's refrains used to be, "Everything worth doing costs a fortune and tends to be a giant pain in the ass." The trick, of course, was deciding if it was ultimately worth it. One of my dad's remarkable talents is setting his sights on a goal and doing absolutely everything in his capacity and then some to achieve it. When he switched gears from a career as a mason to studying physical therapy, he decided that if it was remotely possible for a human being with a brain to succeed in these classes, he was going to do it. And if he could succeed, then damn it, he was going to excel. (My mom was the same way, and when she went back to school, she had a staggering GPA while working full-time, graduating summa cum laude etc.)

The advice my dad has been giving me, for decades now, is that a student cannot let down her guard until the fight is over. Education is a boxing match, he says, and you have to take the hits, roll with the punches, jump at opportunities, and above everything else, stay in the ring fighting until you've delivered the TKO. Both of my parents and my brother did that, and while I've finished three degrees, it feels more like I've done them by accident or default than through any sort of perseverance or integrity on my part.

Every spring, and probably every fall, I get into a whiny self-pity party like the one I just posted. I question what I'm doing, I loll about in existential crises, I rationalize becoming a terrible human being because I get overwhelmed with cynicism, self-doubt, and the exhausting fear that I've made too many mistakes and can't possibly turn my life into what I intend. I overuse sailing and hiking metaphors, I glorify days gone by (and wasted) that seem easier through the filtered lens of memory, and I yearn for simpler, gentler paths. I'm sorry that it probably makes for awfully dull blog-reading, and I know it's old hat, but it always feels genuine and urgent when I'm going through it.

Thankfully, I also know that I will finish whatever apparently insurmountable task was wearing me down, I will get through exams or projects or what have you (or I fall on my face and realize the sun will still come up the next day anyway), and I move forward. Round won or loss, I stay in the ring.

So I know that I've made decisions about what I want to do with my education and my career. I have a plan, and it's a solid, feasible, good plan. When I get derisive and want to berate myself, I tear it all down and call it a farcical pipe dream, but honestly, it's fine. I remind myself of the lyrics from the Ani DiFranco song "Pixie" (embedded below):

Maybe you don't like your job,
Maybe you didn't get enough sleep.
Well, nobody likes their job,
Nobody got enough sleep.




(direct link)

So basically, all this silly self-doubt and anxiety and what all is nonsense of my own making. I do it to myself in all cases, whether I'm studying painting or chemistry, and no matter how much I convince myself that I'm talentless, stupid, and incapable of learning, I get through classes, I learn, I grow, and one day, I'll develop some sense of confidence in what the hell I'm doing. (Knowing me, I'll get downright arrogant about it, provided I don't have to do too much math.)

The goal here is to get a job I do like, to feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. I want to be happy because of how I spend my day, not in spite of it. I really have to believe it's possible, and I gotta get my head back in the game.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend has gotten inspired by my dad's transition from masonry to physical therapy to pursue his own dream of starting an organic, all natural, free-range idyllic little farm. He's obsessed with it, and I have to admit, it is mighty tempting some days to accept his proposal to run off, get married, and live a simpler life surrounded by grazing lambs and fruit trees.

But I've got these dreams of my own I have to get in place first. I'm not giving up the boxing match I've got going with chemistry until I have at least a BS and a job. As much as I am able, I'm going to try to stop stripping all the joy and pleasure out of the experience. I mean, I might not always like it, but I don't have to be constantly down at the mouth and miserable about it either.

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About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Vicki published on April 9, 2012 4:03 AM.

How to Know What's Right was the previous entry in this blog.

Meet Mustafa is the next entry in this blog.

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