Sticking Points

Sometimes there is only so much support that a school, department, or mentor can offer.  And sometimes even if they have plenty more to offer, it's not what one wishes to hear at times of crankiness or frustration.  Sometimes all I want to do is commiserate.  When I started to think about this, for a moment I felt so clever:  "Ha! Commiserate? Co-miserable!" but fortunately before I got too pleased with myself it occurred to me that it wasn't much of a mental stretch to spot the root word.  MW says:

Origin of COMMISERATE

Latin commiseratus, past participle of commiserari, from com- + miserari to pity, from miser wretched

First Known Use: 1594

 

(and, further:)

Origin of MISERABLE

Middle English, from Middle French, from Latin miserabilis wretched, pitiable, from miserari to pity, from miser

First Known Use: 15th century

 

So great.  My brain's really running on all cylinders, huh?

Well, earlier today I was thinking about my thesis, mulling over the latest sticking point: The start of my actual site-based fieldwork is pushed back at least a month.  Mid-to-late February.  And I'm supposed to graduate in May?  Present to the symposium in April?  Interesting position to be in, to say the least.  And distressing.  So I was thinking about this, and about my options, about how I handle working under pressure, and I was just starting an email to someone I hope will help me when one of my favorite Art Edders walked into the computer lab where I work.  J is always incredibly kind and cheerful, even when she's very stressed out about her own thesis work, and she's a good listener and a great commiserat...er.  No.  Commissar?  Nope.  One who commiserates.  Talking with her always improves my outlook on the whole thesis situation, and today was no exception.

By the time J left, I had declared my intentions to send three emails, write one blog post, and investigate one organization and one art education/author.  So far I'm at one sent email, one discarded email, one in-progress blog post, and one organization investigation, and that's more than I've been able to do/focus on in... well, it feels like a really long time.  What a boost!

Throughout this time, I've been thinking about why it is that sometimes all I really need is to hear from a supportive peer, "It's not a breeze for me either.  I have doubts, too."  Does it nudge my senses of pride and competition awake?  Maybe sometimes, but that's not really It.  There's just something about having a person with whom I can be honest about my failures and my fear of Failure that helps to set in motion at least some little part of me that's been paralyzed by those things.  Perhaps it feels more like I wrap myself up tight in a plaster cast, every inch of me encased except my eye, ears, and mouth, and then I try to walk around like nothing's different, like I'm still totally capable of doing yoga or building snowmen or carrying all my groceries into the house in one trip... But I'm not totally capable, and instead i just bump into things and gripe about how hard it is! How incapacitated I feel! Paralyzed! And woooe!  Sometimes I can realize what I've done and snap out of it, and that's worthwhile and fulfilling, but sometimes I need more help, even when I don't know it exactly, and then it's so wonderful for somebody to stumble in with cast saw, maybe even one they didn't know they were carrying.

That metaphor got a little out of hand, but I think it does the job.  I need to be more honest and more focused and figure out how to figure some things out.  I'll post again soon touching on other sticking points.  Thanks, J.