After a crippling intellectual breakdown, life got on with itself. I have way too little time for these existential angst moments. I went hiking. I cared for the littlest beastie. I did something vaguely resembling school with the older beasties (we made clay brains!). I taught my classes. I cooked food. I went to Virgina to see my brother. And I came to the realization that really I'm not much suited for anything but the bloody academy. I hit a fence, folks, and I decided to tear it down.
I meet with some friends to discuss grad. school thinking it would help me to make a decision. It did not do this. Instead we seemed to talk ourselves in circles. H and I talked on the way home but I was still just not sure where to go. I had done a tarot reading (yes I do that) earlier that day and the cards, feeding off of me, captured the situation perfectly, including my indecision. It was apparent that no one or nothing was going to just make a decision for me.
When I got home, I needed to do some fast reading for a class (I am sitting in on a class with the best post-advisor ever. He lets me bring R (who sleeps the whole time). This guy seriously needs to be at a place that does Ph. D so I can have him for an advisor again). I'm reading this article. Typical, rather dry, sociological stuff. It's all about working class kids who go to college. And how they have to let go of their past to move on...and the next thing I know I'M CRYING. H and I talked this stuff out for about two hours. I realized I was tired of fighting. Of not fitting in. I can't play the game as well as those who were raised in this class. My speech betrays me. My past comes knocking when I don't want it to...I am always in the middle in this world. Not quite of the academy and no longer part of the poor. I am in between. Betwixt. I am scared. I am afraid that not knowing the game plan will lead to failure.
Upon waking the next morning, I'm pissed. Filled with a righteous anger. I am going to rip that fence out of the ground. The academy needs people like me. It needs those who come from the poor. It needs woman. Mothers. Baby bearers. Students need to see me wearing my baby to class before her daddy picks her up. It's that simple. Plus I am good at this (ignore the poor writing of my blog, I really can write). And with that fighting thought, I realize I can combine my passion for birth and mothering with my passion for the academy. There is lots of room in religion for the topic of mothering, birthing and children. I'm now piecing together a new project that has me really excited.
And all the while, I'm doing life.