Student+Mom

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2010-02-23T20:17:18Z

Good for what ails me

2010-02-23T19:51:28Z

There are times that I'm convinced I have adult onset ADD. (And, you know, maybe I really do.) Sometimes I'm so scattered between my roles--mom, wife, student, researcher, etc.--that I can't settle my thoughts enough to make progress on anything, especially when I'm working from home where there are ample distractions and all of those roles bleed into each other. Maybe that sounds familiar?

These tips have been helpful to me lately*:

1. Do what matters most to you: assess and choose. (Cultivate lilies, get rid of leeches)

2. Create a positive emotional environment wherever you are.

3. Find your rhythm. Prioritize and use your "burst" wisely (whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or evening)

4. Invest time wisely.

5. Don't waste time screensucking.

6. Identify + control "gemmelsmerch," the force that distracts the mind away from what it wants to be doing : do important work first, limit tv, take breaks and carry on, have a new idea notebook, schedule email time, ELIMINATE TOXIC WORRY (talk to someone, make a plan, get the facts)

7. Delegate

8. Slow down

9. Don't "frazz": give one task your full attention

10. Play

And finally, Live YOUR Life. Be the captain of your life and make decisions that reflect your dreams and priorities, whether or not that fits exactly with the standard. Celebrate your own contributions and ideas.

*notes from reading Dr. Hellewell's book CrazyBusy: Overstretched, Overbooked and About to Snap! Strategies for Coping in a World Gone A.D.D

Lighted paths

2010-01-08T18:00:09Z

I've never been one of those people who knew exactly what she wanted to be when she grew up or, even now, to know the precise answer to the question "so what are you going to do with a PhD when you're done?"

No, where some people seem to have a laser sharp, bright beam of light that sees all the way to the end of the path, I walk in more of a fuzzy glow. I carry a lantern that illuminates just enough ahead for me to know where to place my next step. It's not that I'm not certain I'm in the right place right now. It's just that I don't necessarily know where those steps might lead.

Because of that, I've always had a soft spot in my heart for this quote:

Don't worry about what you will do next. If you take one step with all the knowledge you have, there is usually just enough light shining to show you the next step.

(Terry Tempest Williams quoting Mardy Murie in her commencement speech at the University of Utah, May 2003)

I count on this to be true.

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2010-01-07T21:31:45Z

Happy New Year!

A favorite

2009-11-06T15:34:14Z

How to Climb a Mountain

Make no mistake. This will be an exercise in staying vertical.

Yes, there will be a view, later, a wide swath of open sky,

but in the meantime: tree and stone. If you're lucky, a hawk will

coast overhead, scanning the forest floor. If you're lucky,

a set of wildflowers will keep you cheerful. Mostly, though,

a steady sweat, your heart fluttering indelicately, a solid ache

perforating your calves. This is called work, what you will come to know,

eventually and simply, as movement, as all the evidence you need to make

your way. Forget where you were. That story is no longer true.

Level your gaze to the trail you're on, and even the dark won't stop you.

~Maya Stein

One nudge at a time

2009-11-03T16:00:00Z

We all sat in a circle, 15 or so doctoral students and our proseminar leader, Professor F. Proseminar is a cross between group therapy and staff meeting, where we talk about how it's going and receive direction on next steps.

On our minds that day: the balance. How to have a life while you're a grad student.

Two of us are moms--what a lucky thing for both of us to have each other--so the balance between our real life and our student life is a constant topic for us. But everyone else struggles with this, too. One woman wants to have children at some point during the program. Others are dating or engaged. One or two brave souls have jobs. As we discussed strategies about how to get it all done and still stay sane, Professor F offered his theory of rotating neglect. "Anytime you're doing anything, you're neglecting something else. That's life. Get used to it." (He said it more sympathetically that it reads.)

Maybe, I think. But isn't that looking at the glass half-full? How can that ever feel satisfying--rotating neglect?

I think of life as a student + mom like this: There's a line of boulders. Big, heavy monstrous boulders that I have to move from that place right here to over there beyond the horizon. An impossible job to do in one fell swoop, it requires nudges.

There are several boulders representing parts of my program (coursework, papers, internship, qualifying papers, dissertation). Of course there are family boulders, household boulders, friend/sister/daughter/service boulders. Every day I try to nudge a few. Research articles for a paper (nudge). Make a few phone calls to get needed work done on our plumbing (nudge). Outline a possible QP (nudge). Grade five papers (nudge+). Of course, some boulders really need daily nudging or they slide backwards (family ones, obviously) and I try to spend some good blocks of time with them. But mostly, if I give a nudge to five boulders I call it good enough and feel (relatively) peaceful. Tomorrow, more nudges.

It's all about the increments, baby.

I had forgotten I had mentioned my boulder theory until a colleague dropped it into a conversation six months or so later ("I just nudged one of those boulders!"). Since then it's become kind of a code word for some of us. A mantra to talk us off of the ledge of anxiety.

Every once in a while I'll look back and see a sad (yes, neglected) boulder way back there and realize I need to make it a priority for a bit (usually it's the negotiable, non-deadline things like my own research). So I adjust. In one respect, I'm just nudging boulders inches at a time. In the big picture, I'm strengthening and moving and getting there, one nudge at a time.

There, there, little writing phobia

2009-10-30T13:20:52Z

"The angel doesn't sit on your shoulder unless the pencil's in your hand."

~ Mary Oliver

I have that quote posted over in the sidebar and on a bulletin board. But I've been thinking. Is that even true? For me?

* * *

I'm knee-deep in writing a paper for my public health class (my LAST class for my degree. Woohoo! Let's not talk about all the writing that is still ahead of me...).

I have such a love/hate relationship with writing*. I need writing. I love to have written. But it's painful. After 23 years of school (ahem. I know, makes you want to stage an intervention, doesn't it?), I'm finally okay with the way my mind seems to need to write. Instead of fruitless sessions of staring at a blank screen and panicking, I've gone with my natural tendencies to ruminate and organize and THEN write.

I get the assignment. Or the idea.
I start hating the assignment/idea but my brain starts mulling.
I think about it. When I'm making beds, when I'm loading the dishwasher, when I'm in the car, little ideas are floating to the top of my mind. But it counts as time working on the paper (I tell myself)! (If it's a lit review, I start reading articles and taking notes.)
I start jotting down random ideas. I am still terrified of actually writing but tell myself to just write whatever ideas have surfaced. There, there, little writing phobia.
I start organizing the randomness into a skeleton outline. Again, much soothing of anxiety and telling myself it's no big deal, just writing an outline here.
More thinking. I have to walk away several times (sometimes you just have to give in to the adult onset ADD) and come back and type a few more lines.
Finally I start writing little snippets into the outline. Again, I am really sneaking up on myself. The idea is to get everything to the stage where the writing is all that's left: the ideas, order, and structure are already done! It might look like procrastination but it's really all just my necessary prep work.
NOW I'm truly writing the paper, linking the snippets and fleshing out thought. Inevitably I start getting excited and it starts feeling easier as the paper comes together. (Like childbirth, I'll forget all the pain and effort of the beginning once I get a glimpse of the final product.) THEN I love writing.

So I'm on #7 now with this paper, which makes it sound really good but all that writing is still ahead. Ugh. (And, as you can tell, I've walked away for a bit.)

For the longest time I tried to force myself into the One True Way of Writing, which (I thought or was taught) was sitting down at the computer and writing the whole thing, or at least spending hours on end focused on the writing. I fought myself the whole way.

In reality, if I would have just let myself do it the way I naturally operate--small bursts of attention and energy with lots of unproductive-looking baby steps--I would have been much more productive and happy. A peripatetic writer, that's what I am. And not really a procrastinator after all--a lot of the work just happens below the surface.

So, how does your writing/project process work?

* * *

* does anyone have a love/love relationship with writing?

this was inspired, in part, by Marty's post about the writing muse. Have you checked out her terrific 12-week seminar? Try out her challenges for scouting out your muse. I think my muse hides under the covers or trembles in the corner until I've done all the other prep work. Or maybe she's around the whole time?

Babies, Bacon, & Me

2009-10-30T13:19:14Z

Hi there, I'm coming to you live from beautiful Washington, D.C. I'm here for the first meeting for the fellowship and have already met (and shared a cab) with two of the other lovely fellows. Should be interesting to hear all about what everyone's doing and have the chance to discuss my project and find out ways to make it better. It's inspiring to be around all of these people who are so passionate about finding ways to help improve the lives of babies and their families. Hopefully some of their brilliance will rub off a little on me.

It's kind of weird to be a business traveler though. I've traveled before but never professionally (meaning paid for by someone else). I always imagined myself walking briskly down the airport concourse like a Charlie commercial (or is it Enjoli? except I don't bring home any bacon, really, I pretty much work for free) but instead I was sweaty and I wore the wrong shoes and I kept getting my bag handles all tangled. You know, as usual.

Speaking of babies and families, I miss mine already. (Thanks, G, for holding down the fort). Bacon for everyone when I get home! Because I might not bring any home but I sure do know how to fry it up in a pan.