Only two June goals
Something you should know about me: I like making big plans.
Ambition is not a problem. My problem is follow-through.
I find it very easy to set goals, dream big, sketch maps, and make lists. But as shiny and beautiful as those goals and plans are at the outset, soon enough I am inevitably distracted by another shiny goal or possibility. Perhaps that’s it: the possibilities are endless, and our human potential is infinite. But that’s no excuse in the end.
Over time, I’ve learned that if I force myself to do something every day, it can become a habit. But it can’t be too many daily things, or I become overwhelmed and flake out in favor of whatever silvery new gum wrapper has just blown down the street in my direction.
For June, I’m setting only two goals, but they are to be daily events lasting at least 30 minutes each.
1) Write something professional.
2) Practice yoga.
There are lots of things I could say I want to do for June. Pack up my life, continue planning my wedding, craft, bake, read the latest bestseller, perfect my granola recipe, and so on. But the fact of the matter is, those things will get done anyway because, relatively speaking, they are easy. (Okay, planning a wedding isn’t easy, but I care more about the food and the fun than whether the organza chair sashes match my underwear.)
Writing and yoga, on the other hand, are much harder. I am so much more invested in them than in anything else and consequently so much more afraid of failure. The stakes are just that much higher, and the thought of failure is that much more paralyzing, so it is simply safer not to do them. If I don’t start, I can’t fail, right? If I don’t do it, I can’t do it badly. I can’t break my own heart if I don’t pick up the pencil or unroll the mat. Right?
Wrong. When I haven’t written or practiced, I’m tense and antsy. I feel guilty. However hard it is to start, I always feel better afterward.
So for June, I’m committing myself to two things: 30 minutes daily each of professional writing and yoga practice. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to be there. One hour out of my day for the actions that are most important to my future. As long as I can get myself there for half an hour, I can often build up some serious momentum to go much further. And if not, I’ve still prioritized what is important to me.
The Open Drawer Metaphor
I seem to be unable to close drawers.
This is a problem that Darcy first pointed out to me. When I was in the kitchen, I would open a drawer or a cabinet, pull something out of it, and just leave it open. I would be cooking away, and he would be trailing in my herb-sprinkled wake closing one drawer and cabinet after another.
Until this was pointed out to me, I had absolutely no idea this was a problem. But then I started to pay a little more attention, and I would notice that I left drawers and cabinets and closets and just about anything you can imagine just hanging open around the house.
The metaphor wasn’t lost on me. I would go to do something, start big, get to the crux of the action, and then lose sight of the complete end result. Sure, I would get what I came for, and at first it would seem perfectly fine, but my actions did not create the full intended product. In fact, they just created more work for me down the road. The problem is, I have big ideas and plenty of motivation to start, but I get distracted, which is complicated by the fact that I’m impatient. I’m a bang-up starter, but I lose momentum and focus.
Once I started noticing this, I saw it everywhere. I leave drawers hanging open all the frickin’ time. From the way I check my e-mail, to the way I’ll go into a room to do one thing, and leave 30 minutes later having done something completely unrelated and not having accomplished my initial goal. It’s literal drawers as well as metaphorical drawers. On the one hand, at least I’m consistently not finishing what I start. But on the other hand, that is not the sort of consistency I want to display.
Some might say the way to combat this is monotasking, which I’ve talked about before. Some might say I need to focus more. Some might say I just need to block out other distractions and stay on point. All of these are true, and at the same time, they all share one essential feature: mindful awareness. It all comes down to being aware of your goals and mindful of the actions necessary to accomplish them.
Breaking this bad habit is not easy. I still leave drawers open all the time. But I notice them now, and close them as soon as I do. And someday, I’ll close them as soon as I’m through with whatever I need from inside the drawer. But for today, practicing mindful awareness is enough.
A blessing in disguise
20 job applications, divided among academic positions, postdoctoral fellowships, and museum jobs
3 phone interviews
6 on-campus or in-person interviews
As searches go, that’s a very good ratio. In a bad year and for a humanities field, that’s an extremely good ratio. But in the end, after flying 20,000 miles in five weeks, I received zero job offers.
In every interview but one, I discovered factors against which I just could not compete – internal candidates already in place, institutions simply performing due diligence, even one instance that came dangerously close to age discrimination. There’s only one result I can’t explain, so I know that another candidate was truly a better fit.
On the one hand, as a humanities PhD graduating without a job, I am a statistic. Much has been written lately not only about those scholars not finding academic jobs, but also that the humanities in general is a dying area of study. Although some might argue passionately for the necessity of the humanities and the uses of the discipline, the fact of the matter is that it’s a buyer’s market and the money is going elsewhere. Institutions don’t want ABDs, even when graduation is only a month or two away, when they can have someone who has already been out for a year or two. As someone who has been assured by everyone around me for the past seven years that there was no way I wouldn’t find a job after graduation, I am still a little shell shocked. And I would be lying if I said the whole experience hadn’t shaken my confidence in my scholarship, my abilities, and most of all, myself.
On the other hand, I have had a truly nauseating experience completing my degree. I actively looked for travel grants so I wouldn’t have to be on campus. That experience has definitely colored my view against academia, so much so that I knew it would take a special environment devoted to students to be the right environment for me to thrive rather than chafe. Plus, while there are politics in any environment, academic politics can be downright vicious. And at the end of the day, I would always be weighing my options against the choice of moving to England and starting somewhat fresh in an independent capacity.
In the end, that is what I am doing. The visa is in the works, the shipping quotes are coming in, and I’m beginning to sort out what needs to be done to present myself as an independent scholar. The UK’s rules actively prohibit me from working until after the Powers That Be approve the work permit paperwork, which can only be submitted after we are legally married. So I’m looking at the better part of a year without formal permission to work, and therefore without an income either. While that is not a good thing, I am prepared. Darcy’s income can support the two of us without my contribution and without changing our plans for home improvements. But I have also saved enough that even if I were on my own, I could cover all my own expenses for nearly two years. Right now, the security that knowledge affords me is priceless.
This forced time without a job is the perfect time to write more, revise and submit articles to journals for publication, network, devote more time to the journal I work on, try and give a few lectures, get my name out there, make connections, and see about starting something in the way of a consultancy. The UK is arguably the best place in which to be an independent scholar: there isn’t nearly the sort of prejudice against independent scholars there that is in the States. In short, I have a chance to practice and hone my craft on my own terms in the best possible environment. I’m beginning to get the sense that this is an amazing blessing in disguise.
The New York Times might label me a statistic, but this could be the chance I didn’t know I was waiting for.
The Future is Now – Stay Subscribed!
As I mentioned just this morning, I’m making the move over to WordPress. As I return to the regular posting schedule beginning TODAY, here’s what’s coming:
*Updates on the job search, moving, and wedding
*Life after the Ph.D.
*What the Future looks like
*My experience with Danielle LaPorte’s Fire Starter Sessions
*Yoga podcast reviews
*Book reviews
*In short: content, content, content
To make sure that you don’t miss a single post on Yogademia, please click here to re-subscribe.
School’s out forever!!!
As an art historian, I hereby submit visual proof that my dissertation is officially FINISHED!!!!
Now I can get back to writing Yogademia 
A year left to live
On Monday and Tuesday of this past week, I was out in Silicon Valley on an interview at Liberal Arts College.
I went out prepared not to like it, given the astronomical cost of living out there and a thread I followed on a forum about gang activity in the big city nearby.
When I arrived, I found that the cost of living was no lower than I had read, and I could see evidence of the city being unsafe as early as 7pm. But the college – now that turned out to be completely different from what I expected.
Maybe this is an East Coast-West Coast thing, but the faculty were so much more loose and friendly than they have been anywhere else. I’m not saying that they weren’t working as hard – they absolutely were. But it was their personalities: they weren’t just interested in what I was writing about to file the numbers of publications away in their heads as they have been in other places. Instead, they were just plain interested in what I was working on. I had one meeting over tea with a woman who works on Native American art, and she wanted to talk to me about how landscape politics played out in my research compared to her own.
The dinners were an absolute joy. The food was incredible, the company was relaxed, no one sat there talking shop unless it was actually funny or unusual or helpful. There was no jargon, no attempts to conceptualize up the wazoo as I’ve seen elsewhere. In short, I had fun on the trip – despite blistered feet from two days of walking around in heels and two sleepless nights in the hotel thanks to insomniac neighbors who refused to turn the television off and occasionally banged on the wall in strange ways. At this place, I could do good work – my kind of work, the kind that makes a positive difference in a local community that could ultimately ripple out worldwide. There was sunshine and blue sky, orange and lemon trees everywhere, and relaxed people who didn’t rush around like they do on the East Coast. People smiled.
Sitting in the airport on Wednesday morning, I wrote out an exercise from Chris Guillebeau in which you interview yourself. Running out of time and paper near the end, I jumped the list to finish with the question “If you only had a year left to live, what would you do?”
I wrote down the question in my notebook, stopped to think, and just froze solid in my seat because the strength of the instant gut conviction shocked me into stillness. As much as I enjoyed my California interview, the answer to this question had nothing to do with academia.
If I only had a year left to live, I would still work toward getting my yoga teacher training certification. I would write the books that are wriggling around inside me, trying to break out of their silent mental shell like so many miniature robins heralding the arrival of spring. I would work to connect with students and young women having a difficult time in their education and in planning their careers and encourage them to go out and do what they love rather than what they think they should do. I would counsel, and advise. I would travel to all the places in England that the undiscussed secret side of me fascinated by all things Arthurian wonders about. I would order organic produce from the local farmer, grow pots of herbs from the window, and nurture a kumquat tree. I would make bread dough from scratch and sun myself like a cat in the garden while it rose. But most importantly, I would want to be in England with Darcy, rather than southern California teaching twenty-somethings who would rather be playing frisbee on the quad.
I could do good work as a teacher in California. I could Make a Difference. But if forced into an answer with one year left to live, I would not take the job.
What I’ll do with an entire lifetime left to live has yet to be resolved.
Yogini’s Choice: Navy and Pink Edition
Yogini’s Choice is a collection of inspiring and thought-provoking items on a variety of topics sourced from around the web and world, published Sundays. At least, it usually is, but the whole point of it being a choice is that sometimes, I choose to do something different.
I’ve been thinking about colors for the wedding. Whenever I even think about thinking about colors, I immediately flash to this scene from Steel Magnolias (start at 1:05)
Blush and bashful, indeed. I take Sally Field’s opinion about everything being hosed down with pepto-bismol. No, thank you.
But this week, I happened upon the idea of navy and hot pink – Darcy likes navy, and I like pink, and we like each other, so that seemed reasonable. This is by no means set in stone: I just thought of this in the course of the week. But he combo would work year-round, and it wouldn’t be insipid. When I went looking for how this might work in practicality, I was surprised by just how good the combination looked together. It does lend itself to being a little bit preppy, but I think if you make the pink pop toward bright fuschia rather than ‘blush or bashful’ it looks fantastic. What do you think?
Unexpected in Columbus
So I’m on another job interview right now, at Small School in Tinytown, Ohio.
I fly into Columbus, and one the search committee members picks me up at the airport. She drives me around Columbus for a bit, telling me how great it is, lots of faculty from Small School live there, it’s very open-minded, cultural, and has the second-largest gay population in the country. (Who knew?)
We drive by a McDonald’s on the way out of the city toward Tinytown. On the big sign out front, where they usually advertise their latest specials, reads – and I couldn’t make this up if I tried -
T*R*Y A H*O*T A*N*U*S!
*complete disbelief, followed by giant belly laugh out loud*
No lie. That is exactly what it read. In giant black capital letters. No weird spaces that suggest someone messed with the lettering. I wish I had a photo to prove it. I think they were trying to advertise their new Angus burger, but it seems some smartass stole their “G.”
Columbus, I salute you.
Yogini’s Choice: Good Karma Edition
Yogini’s Choice is a collection of inspiring and thought-provoking items on a variety of topics sourced from around the web and world, published Sundays. At least, it usually is, but the whole point of it being a choice is that sometimes, I choose to do something different.
Kaileen Elise, writer of kaileenelise.com and Queen of the Sparklistas, recently organized a good karma gift swap. The premise was simple: you sign up, fill in a short questionnaire about your likes and dislikes, and then you received the name of your gift recipient along with their questionnaire.
We were asked to send four gifts: one to calm, one to comfort, one to celebrate, and one to promote creativity. I received Annice at Immortal Birds’ Memoirs as my recipient, who expressed a love of hiking and camping, tea, art and artists, and a strong dislike for the color orange. So I sent her a copy of Backcountry Betty, a stack of postcards with paintings by Marc Chagall, two weeks worth of Tazo Green Ginger tea, a tiny handmade woven bag to keep treasures or a small mobile in, and a few extra interesting note cards for good measure.
My package arrived courtesy of Stephanie at Heart Piercing Life and Heart Piercing Cards. Her packaging was absolutely gorgeous – I had to take a picture of it for you because the packaging alone was lovely and inspirational. Isn’t the little round silvery accessory tied to the tag that says “capture life moment by moment” a wonderful addition? So clever!
I almost didn’t want to unwrap the gifts, they were so beautifully covered. But when I did, I found all these marvelous treasures inside!
This gift was absolutely marvelous! Don’t you love how she made a card to coordinate with the wrapping paper? I never travel anywhere without peppermint tea, and today I’m on the first of the 15+ flights scheduled for the next month, so a few teabags are in my luggage right now. When I fly, I always carry Emergency Chocolate, and this beautiful dark Early Grey bar looks superb. Since you can’t reach out and stroke the mini journal, I have to tell you that the white pattern is raised with a velvet-type feeling, and the blue pops even more against the white than it does here in the photo.
The book, Health Style: A Complete Integrated Guide to a Healthy Life, is the perfect addition to my library right now in my ongoing search for sorting out and expressing my authentic self in a cohesive way across all facets of my life. It has all these semi-transparent vellum pages inside with exercises drawn from yoga, tai qi, meditation, and other like-minded practices. I’m really looking forward to having an Artist Date with this book when I return to my current base of operations on Tuesday!
Thank you so much, Stephanie! I absolutely adore my gift – you said you were unsure what to get, so you left it up to the universe, and the universe responded perfectly! And thank you to Kaileen Elise for organizing such a marvelous swap – this was a perfect idea, and it has inspired to organize one myself as well!
Coming soon to Yogademia!
*The beautiful results of my participation in the Good Karma Gift Swap (Thank you so much, Stephanie! Post with photos coming this weekend!)
*A book review of Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
*More thoughts on the practicalities of Doing Something Else
*What I did to celebrate the initial submission of my dissertation
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen: on Friday, 26 February, 2010, I officially submit the core of my dissertation to the committee in preparation for my defense. Or at least, I submit it to Staples, who will print it so the committee can have a paper copy as well as an electronic copy. That doesn’t mean I’m totally finished – believe me, there will be a party when I officially hand this thing in – but it does mean the crux of the work is done for now.
I’m going to take Friday night off, and a bit of Saturday morning, too. But then it’s time to re-pack my suitcase and heading out on Sunday morning to Tiny Midwestern College for an academic job interview on Monday. And I should probably dust off my regular Job Talk this weekend, too…
In the meantime, I leave you with this thought from Diesel’s “Be Stupid” campaign:
