The Scatter Plot

Friday around 2:30pm I found myself in the arms of my husband.  This is profound for a few reasons.  A. I hardly ever ask for help, never mind expect understanding or sympathy; 1. my husband isn't one to just grab me and embrace me, which he did... and furthermore: I was lost. (yes, A. 1. Furthermore - they are all as important as the other)

It reminded me of the times when I was young.  Vacations were hard for me. I had such a crammed schedule that when I found free time I literally had no idea what to do with it.  I mean, I would pace, and complain... and I remember just sort of "finding" things to complain about... I would finish my homework, my laundry and my cleaning and then would, in a sense, stalk my mother... I would just BE - hover - right over her.  And this day - this Friday - I was doing that. I was just pouty and sad and depressed and out of sorts...

So what the heck was wrong with me this particular Friday?  By the grace of United Way I am allowed Friday afternoons to work on my dissertation.  I was at home, supposedly working on my dissertation.  But seriously, it was just not working...

As a means of background, 2 weeks ago, a tragedy that sucks the breath out of me, that makes my heart melt with fear, took place in Newtown, CT.  While not one for media hype, I heard about it and just CRAVED to know more... I spent the entire day "connected" - whether by TV or internet.  A week later I was distraught by potentially lost information from my thumb drive that would render...well at the very least a BIG hiccup if the information was lost.  And then two days ago - well, the pretense of THAT situation was the fact that while we had just upgraded our internet service, for MY computer in my office, the router was not entirely working and I had (okay, have) poor service which rendered downloads... slow.

I found myself upstairs (out of my basement office). Wandering. Complaining to Tim.  Lost. Confused.  And I turned to my husband and said, "I'm so sorry. I just... I just, I want to dance, I want to feel, I want to be, I want to live, I want to know, I want... I want... I..." and then I did. I felt his arms around me and the strength of his hold paused my anxiety and I was. I did...

I get like this when I don't dance. I get like this when I want but don't have but don't know what I want, in the midst of all that I have.  Ask my mom.  I remember those days when I was young... I just was... bored.  And I just don't do well with time; with reflection.

So before I write some prophetic or grandiose foresight into what 2013 will be, I realize I first need to stop and assess 2012 and...and... be.  I need to take a look back and learn.  Here's what I know: I have had plenty of time to make progress on my dissertation and EACH and EVERY time I have sat down to make progress, something out of my control has interceded.  I am tempted to blame the Devil... but then again, is it God.  And isn't that the constant struggle?  Knowing when God is interfering versus whether Satan is?

And so that is where I find myself.  Here.  December 2012.  Lost. Confused.  DONE. But so damned hopeful and blessed more than ever.  And why IS that?  What is it about me that seeks for more and to be more and to want more and to help more and to reach more?  Why can't I just be happy with what I've got?   Before I can (and I want to) write about my New Year resolution  I must have in mind the inventory of what needs to be resolved and what needs to be pursued.

Here is what I will do: take a month off from my dissertation. I will fast not only from food but from my major stress in my life: my dissertation.  I was focus on God and me and my family and my goals and just BE.  I need answers.  And I will tell you all about it. That is the strongest feeling I have, actually - "this could would be a wonderful thought to share with others" "what would people think of this" "oh, I know people would really want to challenge me on that".  God wants me to write, to report, to share.

So my New Year's resolutions will not happen until February.  I will spend this month asking about where I am.  I need my mission statement.  I have my vision but I need my mission.  With all that is scattered in my mind, I will try to plot my year. I have an idea, but after 3 weeks of daily meditation, who knows?  I might totally re-chart my course.

Thoughts on Running

I remember the first time I ran a mile…  There were plenty of times my dad had tried to take me running with him, but we’d made it about 10 houses down the street and I’d turn around and walk home.  I've always blamed that particular weakness in my stamina on my dance training.  Certainly for most of my life I've been in some sort of acceptable physical shape, and while I was a dancer, I was in great shape.  As a dancer you either condition and tone or, especially during rehearsal and performance, you exert excessive amounts of energy in a short period of time – what we might call a sprint.

So I’ve always claimed that if I ever were to be a runner, I’d sprint.  Yet, high school gym class rolls around and the physical fitness challenge rears its ugly head and I am told I have to run a mile.  I remember Mr. Michelson giving us pointers – us the whiny group in the back that couldn't IMAGINE having to run such a long distance.  “Don’t clinch your hands – you exert extra energy that way,” or “Remain calm and breath.  It’s all a matter of how you perceive this.”

And I suppose I made it through the mile – okay, well OBVIOUSLY I made it through the mile, but more prevalent in my mind remains, “It’s all a matter of how you perceive it.” 

Fast forward to today.  I do not, unfortunately, have the resources available to me to continue my dance studies – those resources being money, time or a local York-based dance company (yes, I do get rather depressed when I realize this trifecta).  So I've turned my attention to other types of fitness, one of which is completing a race / obstacle event each month.

So realize: for me the goal is to complete the event; to do it and be done with it.  I tell myself I will do the training necessary but I rarely give it as much attention as my body deserves (recall, if you will, stress fracture of 2011 when I did the an 11-mile navy seals obstacle course with hardly any training)

Dare I now take the threads of this conversation and weave them into my revelation about law school and completing my dissertation? 

So realize: for law school, the goal was to pass the bar – and you DO.  You study, HARD, for months.  You cram, you worry, you throw up, you bite your nails, pull out your hair, you wish you’d never considered law… but in 3-4 months time, you've done all that you can do, you take the 2-day exam and then go have a beer while you create a Plan B since you're sure you didn't pass.

So as I am running a few weeks ago on the beautiful York County Rail Trail, taking in the foliage of falling leaves and the colors of autumn, it occurs to me – seriously – for the first time in my life I am ENJOYING the run.  I actually am having a good time running!  For the first time it wasn't about logging in my calories burned and posting them against my food intake and learning how many beers I would be allowed that night. (ha! It’s true!)

So it got me thinking… My dissertation advisor, more than a hundred times, has told me that the dissertation is not a sprint.  And I've only ever thought in my mind, “Little does he know, I’m a sprinter.  How’d I get myself into this mess?”  When I had this little aha moment about how I can enjoy running, and not just relish the result, I realized why this dissertation has been so damned difficult.  Sure, I started it while in law school, took the bar exam, had two children, have said good bye to two very loved people in my life, moved, changed jobs… but those are EVENTS. They happen – certainly the children stay with you, grow with you, become you… but leaving the "journey of motherhood" aside for the moment, I realized that the dissertation is a marathon. 

Many of my friends and relatives have done marathons and they all say how hard it is on their families and friends. Schedules change; diets change, life changes.  And so, I really do need to graduate with this dissertation sometime soon.  I’m going to train like a marathon runner and enjoy the journey of writing the dissertation itself.  Before I know it – the event I look forward to so much – GRADUATION – will be upon me.  And then I can simply take a marker and check it off my "to do" list.