Ready or not, here I come

I know I shouldn’t be spending these minutes blogging, but as I am about to get on the road to drive to Newport, Rhode Island, this morning, I am compelled to capture my thoughts now. Reflecting on them later will somehow make this part of my Dissertation Journey inauthentic.

So here it is: I am five hours from the start of my formal presentation on my proposed topic, and I am nervous. No matter how prepared I am, I think I would still be nervous because this is an important meeting. I have so much to say, but I need to stay focused. I have done so much work already, but I need to hit the highlights.

I am surprised at the thoughts that are popping into my head this morning. Mind you, I have been up since before 5 a.m., my brain reminding me that I had more “reviewing” to do of my presentation slides, and more rehearsing to get my speech down.

What thoughts are bombarding me?

Will I be able to articulate this topic without wandering down tangential paths?

Will my knees be shaking as I stand there?

Perhaps the oddest question of all: Will the original Professor Three make an appearance to poke holes in my idea and challenge my sources?

You may recall that I had a difficult experience with this professor, who is a well regarded grief expert and someone I had sought out to support me in this research effort, but ultimately became a Committee member that did not fit within my intended path of exploration or ambitious schedule. I found a new reader, replaced this one with courtesy and appreciation, but never received a reply from her when I officially notified her I was making the change.

I was disappointed at that, but tried not to take it personally. She is a busy professor, lecturer and author, and I don’t know what she might have said to me other than perhaps, “I understand,” or “Good luck.”

Still, for some reason she came to mind this morning as I stumbled through my slides to practice my delivery.

What if she, or other Committee members, or even random audience members, ask questions that I cannot answer?

I can’t go there. I’ll stop right here, thank you very much. Here is what I need to do. Take a deep breath. Gather up my laptop, my note cards, my bag. Get into my car and head to Rhode Island. I have about three hours on the road to rehearse and gain confidence. As a wonderful colleague and friend has reminded me over and over these last few years, this is MY topic. This is my project. No one is a better expert than I.

I can do this, and I will do this. Let’s get this show on the road.

Copyright 2011 By Marianne V. Heffernan