Musings.
My current position vis-a-vis graduate school, while being somewhat stressful, as not been without benefit. It's given me some time to think about my current direction and ponder where I *could* go, if I desired. It's strange, I've been chasing after what I've thought I wanted for so long that I didn't realize that it's been ages since I decided that was what I desired.
While I enjoy learning, I certainly enjoy teaching, and research, the situation with my program and difficulties with my adviser (which I won't detail here) have served to only put a bitter taste in my mouth regarding academia. Now, this may not be a permanent thing, and I know everyone goes through graduate school powered by inner rage like a locomotive, but at this particular snapshot in time, the end game isn't too appetizing.
I look back to when I have been happiest in since coming up here, my moments of bliss, and I realize that they really haven't be directly related to academia at all. All of them have been tangent, yes, but none of them involve the cloister.
They've all been when I was traveling. For example, the four day drive moving up here. Just me and my thoughts, out on the road, exploring a part of the country I'd never driven before -- lamenting that I couldn't take more time to do it. This year -- a year in which I spent more than a few months living in Rome -- the high point was getting away from others and traveling to Ravenna and Venice on my own, in a almost fevered attempt to pack as much in as I could. I was completely and utterly blissful.
Maybe I should be a travel writer. I wouldn't even know how to go about it, and where to start, though.
While I enjoy learning, I certainly enjoy teaching, and research, the situation with my program and difficulties with my adviser (which I won't detail here) have served to only put a bitter taste in my mouth regarding academia. Now, this may not be a permanent thing, and I know everyone goes through graduate school powered by inner rage like a locomotive, but at this particular snapshot in time, the end game isn't too appetizing.
I look back to when I have been happiest in since coming up here, my moments of bliss, and I realize that they really haven't be directly related to academia at all. All of them have been tangent, yes, but none of them involve the cloister.
They've all been when I was traveling. For example, the four day drive moving up here. Just me and my thoughts, out on the road, exploring a part of the country I'd never driven before -- lamenting that I couldn't take more time to do it. This year -- a year in which I spent more than a few months living in Rome -- the high point was getting away from others and traveling to Ravenna and Venice on my own, in a almost fevered attempt to pack as much in as I could. I was completely and utterly blissful.
Maybe I should be a travel writer. I wouldn't even know how to go about it, and where to start, though.