One lump or two?

Another learning experience on the Journey to Dissertation. I am forced to consider a serious question: Am I a quitter? 

I’m not going to answer that just yet because my immediate, defiant, stubborn response will be, “No, I am NOT a quitter.” 

After setting myself up for public humiliation last week by posting (with great jubilation, I recall) that I had completed yet another iteration of my proposal, and was feeling like I had figured out a clear path, I took a one-two punch from two of my Committee members after they reviewed my latest flash of brilliance. The lumps  are just beginning to subside, but I have to say, my early and fierce reaction to some of the remarks was, “Life is too short for this kind of self-inflicted torture. The hell with this.” 

I really can’t bear to get into the details of their comments because it doesn’t matter at the moment. The upshot is, I was stunned at some of the harsh tones and took it personally. That’s the trouble with email communication (although I am not so sure that a phone conversation would have sounded less critical; after all, I don’t know my professors as “people” but as Experienced, Educated Professionals who also happen to already have the coveted doctoral degree hanging on their walls).

I’m sure many of you would feel the same way. You put your heart and soul into something, sacrificing your precious “free” time because you see the goal in the distance and want it so badly that you are willing to give up time with your loved ones, relaxation time after putting in a 10- or 12-hour day at your “real” job, and weekend fun, because this goal is going to give you new opportunities and unknown insights. Not to mention how rewarding it will feel to accomplish something so challenging.

It has been incredibly difficult to find and retain a strong focus on my research, this I freely admit. Not because I am not interested in it. Not because I am afraid of hard work. I will blame much of it on a demanding full-time job that usually requires more than eight hours of my energy, time and attention. Tack on a daily commute, a sickly pet that requires high-maintenance daily care, a few family crises, and the normal life requirements of staying healthy and being happy, and voila! You have a fantastic recipe for a nervous breakdown.

Look, no one said it was going to be easy to get a Ph.D. I get that. I am, however, surprised at what I am learning about academia, about academicians, and about the process of orchestrating a doctoral degree. Until now, I had felt that the grueling schedule of course work, capped by an intense comprehensive exam, were the toughest part of this Ph.D. experience. 

I’m starting to think getting over the “Proposal Hurdle” is the real nut to crack. At least, it is for me. Since I cannot take a sabbatical from my day job to focus on my schooling, I have to make a decision. Plow ahead, figure it out, get the Three Wise Committee Members to Align. Then surge along to the finish line. 

OR, I could just take satisfaction in having come this far. 

I did get something for my efforts, after all. At the completion of my course work and comp exam, I received a “Certificate of Advanced Graduate Studies,” one of those “in-between” awards that is beyond a Master’s but not exactly a doctorate. Some might call it a consolation prize for those who don’t have it in them to go that extra distance to get the Ph.D.

Am I a quitter? The answer lies deep within me. I need to ask myself this in solitude, and consider what more I am going to have to sacrifice at this point in my life to achieve this lofty prize. Is it worth it? 

Copyright 2011 By Marianne V. Heffernan

The clearing appears

In the midst of beings as a whole an open place occurs. There is a clearing, a lighting... Only this clearing grants and guarantees to us humans a passage to those beings that we ourselves are not, and access to the being that we ourselves are.

Martin Heidegger 1971 (1935): 53

This was a good week on the road to dissertation. After multiple rewrites of my proposal, prompted by the very blunt and direct reactions of my committee to each iteration that I painstakingly pieced together, I handed in a “finished” product.

Over 30 pages of details that suggest a phenomenon is taking place in our modern society. At the moment, it is called, “The influence of technological culture on the experience of grief.” 

Of course, I realize I am setting myself up here for public humiliation in a week or so when I get back comments from the Three Wise Professors who certainly could say that my latest proposal is yet lacking something. Still, I have been wrestling with it for too long, and just want to get on with it. I cannot move ahead until they say so.

But the mind is a puzzling thing. If you force it to think about something, it may not be ready to do so, at least, not in a way that will be clear to you. It will reject the ideas and follow other distractions, or it will work so hard that it just produces a raging headache. When you want to sleep, it will decide to keep you up because NOW it has something to tell you. Or ask you. Or demand of you.

All you can do is go with it, go about your days, fitting in the reading and the thinking and the dissecting. Cry a little. Get mad. Refuse to continue. Use every expletive you have ever learned, and make some up while you’re at it.

Until you reach a clearing. I can’t believe this term came to me, because it is one that I learned during my PhD coursework a few years ago. At the time, it was profound but ever-so complex, at least to me. It is a pleasant surprise to realize that I retained this idea and am able to apply it to my research experience. Learning is a wonderful thing.

Martin Heidegger developed a philosophy of being that introduced the term “clearing” as an opening through which entities other than ourselves can emerge out of hiddenness, or are made visible by a bringing into the light. (You may want to reach for the Tylenol here because this sort of thing can make your head hurt.)

The place where this unconcealment occurs is the clearing. Without getting into the intricate and deep thinking involved here, let me explain that this philosophy holds that the clearing is a “place” but it is more a state of being, or consciousness, into which revelations come. Everything that we come to know and experience in the world enters into us through this clearing. Heidegger called it Dasein.

This week, I call it joy. I don’t want to belabor the point that this journey to dissertation is an arduous one. I know you get it. It’s work. I’m sharing my challenges with you, though, because I am not experiencing any of this alone, and whether you like it or not, you are in this with me. 

Heidegger compels me to think deep thoughts, and right now, I am realizing that my sleeplessless, my frustrations in juggling the “day job” with the responsibilities of home life and family, and the demands of research that require extraordinary concentration and commitment... none of this is just me, in isolation, figuring things out.

Every human connection we have affects the ultimate end product of who we are. I love this thought and it is one I entertain often. We are always on the way to becoming. We cannot control it, and we cannot influence it. Not really.

How does this apply to my current state? I’m not sure yet. I am recognizing that this clearing for me has allowed me to find focus in my work here. I know what I want to know, and that is, how is the technological culture of today influencing our experience of grief? Do we turn to our computers when we are sad and say, “I need to reach out but I cannot wait for an in-person opportunity. I must say how I feel right now, regardless of whether anyone is out there listening, or if they will respond. I must get this off my chest.”

I am tracking down Marshall McLuhan here, friends. He coined the phrase, “The medium is the message,” and that says something about what’s going on with our electronic grief sharing. I just don’t know quite what yet.

I have put together a plan of action to investigate this intriguing phenomenon. I really want to know what this electronic age is saying about us when it comes to the most painful emotional experience we can endure.

For now, I am enjoying the moment. It may be a bit premature to celebrate my proposal, but I’m going to remain optimistic that I am on to something important. Whatever The Committee says, it will still be a step forward. 


Copyright 2011 by Marianne V. Heffernan