Day Ten

Life is a funny thing. You can focus all of your attention and energy into a very specific set of goals, yet the lessons you learn can come out of left field. Over the past week, I've experienced just that. While I've labored over my notebooks to get some traction on my thesis, raced around town to get my girls ready for school, and hovered over my computer to make my way through a to-do list for church, a lesson came out of nowhere. No really. I could not see this one coming until it hit my upside the head. But when it did hit, it offered up a very important lesson that I hope will help shape my book, my thesis, and, most importantly, my life from here on out.

Language has tremendous power and we must be careful how we use it.

Now this may seem fairly obvious - I've always been slow on the uptake - but it's something I find I needed to learn. Now. Before I write another word on either project, or try to help my kids learn from their mistakes. Words are visceral, vital things and I want to make sure I use them in best way possible.

So what brought up this little diatribe of mine? It's pretty simple really. I've had experience with some pretty powerful language as of late - both inspiring and devastating. I'd rather not focus on the latter. It would just serve to illustrate the capacity for words to bring us all down. Now the former, that is a completely different story....

After a disastrous February - please see Day One for further information - I questioned whether I have what it takes to actually write a solid piece of research. (This is not an idle concern. Trust me, my master's thesis was NOT my finest hour.) I've pressed forward under a suffocating cloud of doubt. Well, last Friday I finally decided to admit as much to my advisor. I described in painful detail the crippling writer's block that has impeded my progress, I explained my confusion regarding the best course for a chapter, and I expressed my doubts over the path I have chosen. His reply? Exquisite. He understood. He empathized. He assured me that my research was sound. And he helped me chart a way forward. Throughout all of this, I realized he is not about to give up on me - a student he inherited by default when my original advisor retired - and he wants me to find my way to the promised land. They were only words, but they made me realize that I might just have a viable project on my hands, and the mental alacrity to make it work.

Nothing has changed. Not really. I'm still stumbling along, trying to muster the courage to believe in myself and my ability to earn the mantel of PhD. I'm still trying to find the energy, patience, and serenity to make it through the day with a modicum of grace. I'm still trying to discover the secret recipe to dividing my time in the most efficient way possible. I've just come to appreciate the power of uplifting words a bit more than I did a few days ago. I hope I can make better use of them in my writing.....and my life. I suspect a lot of other things will fall into place a lot more easily - or at least more pleasantly - as a result.