I feel as though I could write a dissertation until I actually log in and wonder what to post. At that point, the requirement for actual lexical specificity hits me, and I realize that there is no linguistic method by which all of “my personhood, right now, please empathize” can be conveyed. Everyone experiences this. It’s rough on us all, particularly when we feel alone and bewildered.
My years at university thus far have been the best of my life, much moreso when I was struggling deeply to make a go of it (versus the moments during which the work was more or less automatic and brainless). The sense of achievement I’ve felt at times is truly majestic — and oddly enough, I’ve never felt such things at the moment of earning a degree. Instead, I’ve always felt it when I’ve been able to articulate an argument in just the way that I conceptualize it, or when I’ve managed to produce a paper that I’m proud of, or a body of work that I feel has changed someone’s mind or opened new avenues for instruction for future students.
I’m hoping that all of this continues when I get back into school once more. It’s a very conscious decision I’m making, and like (I suspect) nearly all individuals who pursue this avenue in their lives (and make no mistake, it does take over one’s life at some point), I’m not all all positive that it’s the “best possible choice.” Instead, I’m operating on a lot of intuition and gut feeling and experience that suggests prudent courses of action, rather than deeply logical or wise ones, to me.
There remains, however, a large part of me that is starved for something much simpler, which I do not pursue simply because most indicators suggest that it is not easily guaranteeable, regardless of the amount of labor invested. Thus, I do what I am sure I can complete, rather than sacrificing all to pursue what fate must ultimately grant me, if it is willing.
Forks in the road. Frustrating in a short life. Frustrating indeed, and lonely, too.