I’m late with this blog posting but I won’t make excuses. My goal of posting new insights each week still remains, but sometimes the “process” hits a bump in the road. For sure, the journey to dissertation is doing a little four-wheeling at the moment.
After my last blog post -- Getting comfortable with death -- I received some great insights from readers that surprised me and boosted my confidence that I am on to something here. One reader who cares for hospice patients spoke of the amazing fearlessness of death -- the acceptance that many of them ultimately achieve. She sees a change in the way society has made it OK to grieve.
Another reader shared an example of how the social network sharing of grief introduced her to a young man she never met in life. Through the grief and sharing of that lost life, she now knows him. This is a clear point that runs through my research. The sharing, the memorializing, is the way we keep them with us. So I was nodding as I read that comment as well.
Still another reader hit on a key aspect in my exploration: the privacy element. It’s not just grief that we are sharing publicly; it’s all sorts of things. We know that we can share it, in this public way, and that seems to open the flood gates, so to speak.
What is at work here?
Yet another reader offered a perspective that needed to be noticed: this public sharing through electronic messages -- whether it’s Facebook, email, or some other internet-based communication -- happens with, through, and in, a buffer of technology. If we’re so comfortable talking about death, why do we not make the extra effort to ‘be comfortable’ in person? Isn’t a kind word at a time of grief even more welcome when it is accompanied by a sincere look of compassion, concern, or better yet, a hug?
All good points and all part of my search. Still, I am not speeding forward. Still, I feel like I am in first gear, like my old Wrangler Sahara digging to find its footing in the mud and spinning those larger-than-standard-sized tires until the rocks and sludge are flying.
I noticed tonight that some of my colleagues who are in the PhD program with me are scheduled to present on their topics or, worse, are defending their dissertations in the coming weeks. Meanwhile, I am drowning in death lit.
What have I done? Worse, what am I doing?
The pressure of finishing school is definitely clobbering me about the head. I have other writing to do in my life -- memoir writing, in particular, I think, will be my most frequent style, as I am fascinated by the stories of people’s lives. But I must keep them simmering while I am slugging away at this research, and it really bugs me to have to do so. I promise I will continue this research thread once I have the degree; can’t I just get it over with, so that I can mix it up a little in my writing life?
I suppose I just have to realize that the pull of other creative writing projects will never subside, and I must stick to the task at hand -- REALLY STICK TO IT -- if I am going to finish in a realistic timeframe and not get left behind by every classmate with whom I endured the PhD coursework.
As I started to explain at the start of this post, I hit a bump in the road this week and have made little progress on my research writing. I was beginning to think my Mentor, Professor One, is playing a little game with me: he gives me comments on my proposal that set me back several paces, and tells me that I am “close,” so keep persevering. I just know he is laughing his butt off any time I leave his office after one of these meetings. He’s got me pegged for graduation in 2015, I bet.
I’m not having it. I need to clear the decks. Get really serious. Yes, that is what I must do. Which means I may have to go into hibernation -- avoid all family and friend functions, no football games, no outdoor activities, no crappy television watching. I really have been slacking in that sense -- letting “life” in. Oh, I haven’t been neglecting my research, not at all. I’ve just been allowing myself to do other things to keep a healthy balance. The problem is, I took on a few “extra” things this fall that I probably should have kept on the back burner unti I am finished with this project. So my balancing act is way overloaded.
Hindsight, of course, is the great teacher, and I know what I have to do. The gloves are off. I am not going to be left behind, eating the dust of my PhD colleagues as they prepare to be fitted for their caps and gowns. The competitive gene that runs in my family runs deep. I want it too, so I need to just jump in it.
And I will. Right after I take the dog to the vet, get the oil changed, and vacuum my living room.
Later this week: Parallel grief. I need to blog about the Petit case.
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