School is my life. That, I am sure, comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me. And I have written before, over and over again, about the costs of academia. About how no one makes it to where I am without sacrificing their social life, their health, hell, even their sanity. It is, of course, a luxury to have the time, money and brains to do a PhD program. But, as with most things in life, the good comes with the bad. (And, just as importantly, the bad comes with the good)
I have said multiple times that I am so glad I am single in the midst of my studies. I really seriously don't know how anyone does this with a spouse, with a family, with a significant other, even a pet! Half the time I feel like I'm a success if I am fully dressed, in clean(ish) clothes, and manage to eat three out of the five food groups in a given week. Forget about make-up, regularly scheduled haircuts, housework or catching the latest blockbuster. I buy index cards, pens and highlighters in bulk, and the precarious stacks of library books have spilled out of my dorm room into our living room.
And the total mess that I am, well, I love it. I get so excited just thinking about my research, just thinking about teaching next year. It's what makes me feel alive, why I get out of bed in the morning. It is what fills me up and makes me whole.
Then I have a day like today, where I get some pretty harsh feedback from a professor and I just literally cry for a good hour and a half. The kind of thing that makes a person just wanna drop out and run away. And in the midst of all the tears and tissues, the logical practical side of me knows that the professor is really just trying to push me to be the best student, scholar, teacher I can be, but that doesn't stop me from being overly emotional and, yes, overly dramatic. I mean, my studies are my heart and soul. Criticize my academic performance and you basically criticize my very essence.
So after I cried all of the moisture out of my body (which is really not much of an exaggeration), I decided to step back and get a little perspective. By which I mean I took an evening off from studying to watch TV, draw and snuggle with my roommate's pups. And so I was sitting here, watching Buffy (because really, nothing helps work through academic frustration like watching a bunch of vampires getting dusted) and of course Buffy, despite being all chosen and alone in the fight against evil still has all this crazy boy drama. I've been watching the final season, and I have to admit, I am a total sucker for the whole Buffy-Spike relationship. Not because she makes him a better person but because he in his own way makes her a better person too. Anyways, I'm watching and there is this scene where they're not together anymore but Buffy asks Spike to stay with her and just hold her as she sleeps. Later Spike tells her it was the best night of his 100+ existence. And yeah, the whole thing is a bit cheesy, but watching it made my heart ache. Because while I'm not some fancy vampire slayer, I am, in my own way, alone. I am so focused on my studies that I really don't have room for much else in my life. I love my studies, and I am passionate about my research, but at the end of the day, I can curl up with a book but it's not like that book is really all that snuggly.
I am a strong, independent post-modern woman. I don't need a guy in my life to complete me. I'm quite whole all on my own, thank-you-very-much. It's not that there is anything missing from my life by being single, but in that moment, I realized that there needs to be something more than just my studies. Because, let's face it, negative feedback from a professor shouldn't eat at the core of my very being. Maybe today was just a bad day and I was just overly emotional (because, hey, I'm a girl and we have a tendency to do that) and I overreacted. Maybe. But I need to not be defined by a bad grade or even a professor I just can't seem to please. I need there to be more to me than just school.
And that's why I am so grateful to live in this crazy, over-the-top, radical, loving community. I'm the momma hen, and sometimes my baby chicks resent me and don't want to listen, but when push comes to shove, we're all there for each other -- holding each other up, dragging each other along, offering one another hugs and love and sometimes a much needed kick in the behind. We're family in our own crazy messed up way. No matter how many lessons I learn in the classroom, I've learned so many more from these people -- lessons on love and acceptance, lessons on faith and belief, lessons on grace and forgiveness, lessons on life and on living.
School may be my life. School may be my calling. But my community is my ruah, my life-breath and divine spirit, infusing me with love.
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