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