Hello world!

Wow, I join WordPress and BAM, instant blog.  This entire event occurred by accident but surprisingly, I hesitant to delete the thing.  There are some vague ideas forming which may not be a good thing, but this could be an interesting experiment.  Fortified with some New Year’s cheer (and alcohol), an introduction may follow next week.

15 thoughts on “Hello world!

    • Welcome! I joined WordPress so I could comment on your blog before realizing I could have done so with out creating a blog. Now that it’s here, I haven’t a clue. I have a a blog on Livejournal under the same name. Maybe this could be more stream-of-consciousness, not sure. Watch this space: if I feel another long winded comment coming on, I’ll probably point back here. Or better yet — ask me a question. I’ll do my best to answer.

  1. Well, keeping a whole separate blog running is asking a lot of yourself, isn’t it?I just read your post on turning 50, and if I had a question to ask, it would be: what do you think was most influential in getting you from your frustration at 40 to the calm you now feel at 50? (I turn 42 in February, and my life — to put it mildly — is in crisis.)

    • Happy New Year! I’ve just returned from the wilds of Ohio and just saw your question. (I’m also mulling over the RA interview questions which is much harder than I anticipated.)Yes, this blog will probably prove a tall order considering how the writing fell off on the other blog. However I do want to get back to writing. LJ was always intended to be a bit more pedestrian. Here I hope to be more thoughtful.What was most influential in moving from my frustration at 40 to now is letting go of expectations. I have always been an overachiever and suspect you are as well. We carry expectations of our families and society that morphed into expectations we have for ourselves. In my case, things became skewed in the internalization. I had a laundry list of “shoulds” but nothing under “wants” because I assumed they were the same thing. Because they were not, everything seemed to be a struggle. I constantly lamented why X was not working for me when Jane did the identical thing and she got X, Y and Z to boot. Of course I had not stopped to realize I’d sabotaged the road to X and did not care about Y and Z anyway.One of the downsides of being is over-educated is I learned how to analyze topics to death, but not how to think in connection with myself, or how to apply mother wit internally. I started pondering what I wanted and why instead of what I did not want. The questioning led to dismantling my entire belief system, keeping what I thought true for me and discarding the rest. Many expectations went out the window and that was not a bad thing.Probably none of this is helpful to you right now. There is a reason why many in their 40’s go through mid-life crises. These crises are growing pains when people realize they have not fulfilled their expectations because their “shoulds” and “wants” are very out of sync and probably always were. The question becomes what are they going to do about it. Some try to recapture their youth to avoid looking clearly at themselves. Others reorder their priorities. My theory is just like adolescence prepares us to be young adults, the 40’s prepares us to be older adults.If you recognize yourself here, all I can say it is simply something you have to live through, with a great deal of deep personal reflection. I believe you’ve made a great start with your blog, trying to discover what about RA resonates with you so strongly. Reflecting on qualities and abilities you see in him is helping you reflect on the similar things you may not quite perceive in yourself. (Yup, another theory of mine.) It’s a good jumping off point. I realize your blog is oriented to RA fans but I urge you to privately rethink every aspect of your life– your wants, needs, career, love life, family, beliefs, – because that is where you really need to focus.

      • There would be a lot to say here but what’s resonating this particular week is the question of sustainability that you raise. The life I have been living up until now is not sustainable for an over-40-year-old, or for me, anyway. There’s something about university life that makes one live the way one did as a student. That has upsides and downsides.

        • I can understand that. Transitioning from life in school (considering how many years we spent there) is difficult and teaching is kind of the flip side of the same coin. It’s an insular world. I recall feeling a bit resistant and slightly resentful even frightened leaving university life because there was no more buffer between me and Life. And to this day, I still miss breaks and summer vacation. 😉

          • As a faculty member (at least at the kind of university that I teach at) you don’t really get summer vacation. I also defend the summer break to the death because of the necessary work week during the term, but in fact, I’ve worked solidly through every summer since 1998, and many faculty have to teach summer school to make ends meet. The winter breaks are good. I don’t feel like there’s been a buffer between me and life as a faculty member, either. On the contrary. The real sustainability issue for me is that I am expected to live my life as if I am a 21 year old, and that’s just no longer feasible.

            • I should stop speculating and ask in what ways are you expected to live like a 21 year old? I don’t want pry but am curious about your problem.

              • I could say a lot of things, I suppose, or give concrete examples, but to summarize, I guess it’s that professors expect their students to have their entire attention on their education, and they have to give the same attention in return. In order just to keep my head above water, let alone succeed, I have to devote my life 100% to my job during the term, and anything that’s not directly related has to fall outside. The job takes up every waking minute. That’s fine as long as nothing else happens in my life, but should I want something outside of that, or should something I can’t prevent from happening occur that distracts from that, I can’t keep up. There was a rush, when I was a junior in college, involved in managing to get all this stuff done and learn all these things, and there was an infrastructure set up to service that, but as an adult, I can no longer maintain the same enthusiasm about that level of submersion in things, nor can I ignore certain realities of adult life that infrastructure no longer supports for faculty in the way that it does for students.

  2. judiang, I hope you continue with this blog. It has promise. So don’t delete. See where it takes you. I think writing is as much a craft, requiring practice, as it is an art.I’m nowhere as “over-educated” (can you be too educated?) as either you or servetus. I have one degree, in history and Eng. Lit. and a bunch of undergrad credits in art history. And a career as a librarian in three countries.If you are 50, I have 15 years on you. And still trying to work out the meaning of life. Like being a mother, it is a life sentence – with a 30-something lovely son, still trying to refrain from feeling he needs a Mum’s guidence – and still trying to work past the right-brained/ can’t do math/or solve digital problems…will be working on that when I’m 80.So just go for it, and keep going.All the best.

    • Hi Fitzg! Thanks for coming. Oops, did I say “over-educated” out loud? Highly-educated may be a better term. I think you qualify. Personally I wonder if all my book-learnin’ has given me a lick of sense. You’ve worked internationally? That’s sounds exciting. Which countries?Thank your for the encouragement because I will definitely need it. I’ve been trying to stockpile some posts but it’s been quite time-consuming. It’s amazing how busy Servetus has time to teach, write papers and still post missives to us. Must know her secret. 😀

  3. I would say I am over-educated in the sense that you mean — more education than the average person in the U.S. thinks she needs :)No real secret, I think. I try to make myself write every day.

      • Mine are advocates for education, period — that was the thing they felt they had done wrong in their lives: not gotten enough. To some extent I may have overcompensated.

  4. Pingback: The Armitage morass, or: why Servetus can’t get out (and you can’t, either) « Me + Richard Armitage

Comments are closed.