Am I Finished
Today marked the end of my first semester of graduate school.
Contrary to all initial expectations, it didn't feel particularly noteworthy or landmarkish; there was no immediate desire to drop a post on Facebook, head to the beach (that I haven't been to in weeks), workout, watch television, have a beer, or actually go out and be social again. Nope, I took a nap. A two hour nap in fact. Cuddled up with my dog. All I wanted to do was sleep.
Graduate school has been nothing short of a continuous series of unforeseen struggle and frustration. I've had numerous friends complete grad-school over the last several years (MBAs, MSWs, DVMs, etc.)...and they all seemed to enjoy the process. For the past seven years I've talked regularly about wanting to be back in school and missing the art of being a student, and the privilege of learning. When I got accepted earlier this year, I was ecstatic. I knew going back to school would be a transition, and have it's fair share of challenges--but I was not ready for what awaited me.
My mind was filled with grandiose ideas of the freedoms and adventure that was before me. I imagined classes that finally made sense in subject matter that I was passionate about, time to enjoy friends and night life again, and some last 'hurrahs' before REAL ADULT LIFE had to begin.
I've done a lot of things in my 29 years that I've had to pep-talk myself through; remind myself why I was doing this, why it was so important. Yet, there has never been a season of my life that I have contemplated legitimately quitting so many times. I got angry a lot. I cried even more. I made mumbled threats to e-mails and grade posts. I pleaded with books, slide-shows, and notes. I rationalized that a masters degree really wasn't worth 'this'...and I'd rather be poorer then dumber (or so it felt).
It would seem that someone who is trying to improve their life and the life of others, shouldn't feel on constant edge of just 'pulling the plug.'Why doesn't anything work out like it's supposed to, you know?? If you work really hard, why does it feel like you are getting less?? If you give it your everything, why does it feel like it's never enough?? The last four and half months have taught me substantially more about myself than (I would venture to say) any other endeavor I have embarked on has. A few things things I have taken away:
(1) A semester is a really LONG time. I could have fit two quarters into the last 19 weeks; that takes more endurance than running a marathon.
(2) Grades don't tell you how good you're doing or how far you've come; they test your resilience. It's much like paddling out while surfing, the impact zone is there to see how bad you want to and how hard you'll work to get out past the break.
(3) Nothing is ever guaranteed, or turns out how you planned for, hoped for, or expected. That's just life, and I have to learn how to be as relentless as it is.
(4) That being said, sometimes, life just hurts. And you fail. Or screw something up. So, you eat a box of peppermint Joe-Joes, watch some NCIS Los Angeles, and you try again. And again. And again. And LL (Cool J) will always make you feel a little better.
(5) "The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me." - Ayn Rand (thanks PW), no one owes me anything. If I don't have the endurance, resilience, determination, drive, and courage to keep me from stopping me...there's no way to keep anyone else from doing do.
This semester has pushed me to dig deeper than I ever have before; the unanticipated need to do so has revealed levels of my character and abilities that I never knew existed. I know the next three semesters are likely to plagued with many of the same feelings and experiences...but I relish the fact that I can. I will.
I'm not done. I'm just getting started...
Contrary to all initial expectations, it didn't feel particularly noteworthy or landmarkish; there was no immediate desire to drop a post on Facebook, head to the beach (that I haven't been to in weeks), workout, watch television, have a beer, or actually go out and be social again. Nope, I took a nap. A two hour nap in fact. Cuddled up with my dog. All I wanted to do was sleep.
Graduate school has been nothing short of a continuous series of unforeseen struggle and frustration. I've had numerous friends complete grad-school over the last several years (MBAs, MSWs, DVMs, etc.)...and they all seemed to enjoy the process. For the past seven years I've talked regularly about wanting to be back in school and missing the art of being a student, and the privilege of learning. When I got accepted earlier this year, I was ecstatic. I knew going back to school would be a transition, and have it's fair share of challenges--but I was not ready for what awaited me.
My mind was filled with grandiose ideas of the freedoms and adventure that was before me. I imagined classes that finally made sense in subject matter that I was passionate about, time to enjoy friends and night life again, and some last 'hurrahs' before REAL ADULT LIFE had to begin.
I've done a lot of things in my 29 years that I've had to pep-talk myself through; remind myself why I was doing this, why it was so important. Yet, there has never been a season of my life that I have contemplated legitimately quitting so many times. I got angry a lot. I cried even more. I made mumbled threats to e-mails and grade posts. I pleaded with books, slide-shows, and notes. I rationalized that a masters degree really wasn't worth 'this'...and I'd rather be poorer then dumber (or so it felt).
It would seem that someone who is trying to improve their life and the life of others, shouldn't feel on constant edge of just 'pulling the plug.'Why doesn't anything work out like it's supposed to, you know?? If you work really hard, why does it feel like you are getting less?? If you give it your everything, why does it feel like it's never enough?? The last four and half months have taught me substantially more about myself than (I would venture to say) any other endeavor I have embarked on has. A few things things I have taken away:
(1) A semester is a really LONG time. I could have fit two quarters into the last 19 weeks; that takes more endurance than running a marathon.
(2) Grades don't tell you how good you're doing or how far you've come; they test your resilience. It's much like paddling out while surfing, the impact zone is there to see how bad you want to and how hard you'll work to get out past the break.
(3) Nothing is ever guaranteed, or turns out how you planned for, hoped for, or expected. That's just life, and I have to learn how to be as relentless as it is.
(4) That being said, sometimes, life just hurts. And you fail. Or screw something up. So, you eat a box of peppermint Joe-Joes, watch some NCIS Los Angeles, and you try again. And again. And again. And LL (Cool J) will always make you feel a little better.
(5) "The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me." - Ayn Rand (thanks PW), no one owes me anything. If I don't have the endurance, resilience, determination, drive, and courage to keep me from stopping me...there's no way to keep anyone else from doing do.
This semester has pushed me to dig deeper than I ever have before; the unanticipated need to do so has revealed levels of my character and abilities that I never knew existed. I know the next three semesters are likely to plagued with many of the same feelings and experiences...but I relish the fact that I can. I will.
I'm not done. I'm just getting started...
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