On regret
I want to do everything. I’m in grad school, and I want to soak up as much as I can. If I can take 18 credits, why not? If I can do an internship or two or three, why not? It’s a great experience. But how much is going to be enough to shackle bricks to my feet and drown me?
This year I’m the nonfiction editor for Willow Springs, an opportunity I am thrilled about, as I’ve always wanted to be in the editing world. I’ve also just accepted an internship with NARAL Pro-Choice Washington with a commitment of five to seven hours a week. My first quarter is full, what with Willow Springs credits, thesis credits, and the two classes I need to take. Middle quarter, though (I don’t really get how these are quarters. They’re only quarters if you attend summer classes. In that case, a semester system would really be a trimester system. But whatever, I’m not good at math, maybe I’m wrong.), I could take a women’s studies course. Or I could take one of the electives offered in creative writing. I could take both, plus thesis credits and WS. But will that heavy a load two quarters in a row affect my thesis writing?
I can’t decide if taking just one class middle quarter on top of internship with thesis credits is enough. No, that’s not true. Of COURSE it’s enough – I’ll work three days a week doing medical transcription, and I have three small children, two of whom need to be shuttled about for school, plus all the extra parental involvement schooling often requires. I guess I worry most about regret. Having many regrets about all I didn’t do in undergrad, I feel like I can’t waste an opportunity. Writers in the Community? Maybe I could squeeze in teaching a class a month. The press? I bet I could find time to read manuscripts. Chaperone a class outing for my daughter? I’m in.
But I also fear one day I’ll have so much on my plate that I’ll spill something, or that I’ll choke. And if I do that, I’ll regret it. And “No Regrets!” is my grad school motto. As a mom (who can’t often afford a baby-sitter) I already have to miss out on a lot of fun things, like open-mic poetry and slam poetry, not to mention nearly all of the parties, get-togethers, and gatherings held by classmates. I’m OK with most of that.
It’s the scholarly events I’m always sorry to miss out on. Do you or did you feel torn about the commitment possibilities of grad school (or work or undergrad)? Is it something everyone else has wrestled with, too?
Thank you for unburdening. I have a completely different problem from you, but I still feel like I can understand. I have crippling social anxiety and can’t leave the house sober unless I feel true kinship with the people I’m around. I miss out on a lot of things because of that. My whole undergrad experience was a repeating series of social regrets. One bad marriage and experimental medications forced on me in the service have ruined me for a normal life. Your approach sounds flawless. Taking on more and failing seems to me to be a more acceptable regret than taking on nothing and longing. I envy your energy and commitment to experience.
Keep affirming life’s beauty for those of us too scared to leave the cave.
Oh geez, I’m really sorry to hear that. I know someone who has a similar anxiety, though not to that degree, and I know it makes it hard to connect with new people. Yeah, I am definitely going to err on the side of too much-iness. I’ll always regret my “Bs get degrees” attitude of undergrad, and that’s not something I want hanging over my head with grad school. I hope that you are able to achieve some kind of balance in that area, as well.
I mean in the area of life, not necessarily grad school, that is.
I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder nearly fourteen years ago, and one of the things I learned in therapy that has always helped me is that people are self absorbed. In other words, when I was worried that everyone was looking at me, judging me, in reality they were all in their own little worlds doing their own things that had nothing to do with me. I haven’t been on medication in years, and I always feel a surge of anxiety when I go out to parties or readings, but then I think of the regret I’d feel if I let the anxiety win, and I go. And surprisingly, I almost always have a good time.
Good luck in your struggle. Don’t give up.
Tanya, I remember the winter quarter of my second year being kind of hellish because I was teaching, taking two classes, interning at the press, taking thesis credits, and working on a couple side projects. I had a couple moments when I just went off by myself, shed some tears to release some stress, and kept on truckin’. I figured that I would regret it if I missed out on Surrealism with Chris, releasing the Adam Hammer chapbook, and all the other things I got to be a part of. And I was right. I’m so glad I did all that. I always tell myself, “It’s temporary. Just get through today.” And it generally works. What’s the elective they’re offering this year? I’m jealous before I even know what it is. I miss the form and theory and elective classes the most.
Rachel’s teaching one, something like “Writing about things that make you sweat,” I want to say. Natalie’s teaching one on point of view, which I am very interested in. I’m going to talk to her about it, but I think I will take it.
Good luck! Whatever you decide to take will be worth it, I’m sure.
I’m in the same boat, Tanya, and always have been. I think it comes down to how you work best. If you work best when you have a strictly scheduled day and lots of projects to juggle, then as long as you’re getting the writing done and really care about each thing you’re involved in, you won’t regret it. But it is a very, very thin line. For myself, I know that I’m more productive when I’m busy, and like you, I want to take advantage of as many opportunities as I can. Why not accomplish as much as we can, while we can, right? But regret definitely factors into my first year in the program, because I was absolutely too busy to give 100% to each class, workshop, job, internship, etc. every single day, and that’s unacceptable to me(I’m pretty darn competitive, when it comes down to it.) Why else are we here, except to devote two years to focusing on our writing? How incredibly stupid is it (in hindsight) to crank out a shitty story for workshop because you simply didn’t have the time to present something you actually had worked on for more than a few hours? I think you should do as much as you possibly can until it cuts into your writing time or your sanity on a daily basis, and then when you get to that point, make peace with cutting out something else. There’s a quote from a NYT column by Judith Warner that I really relate to:
“It’s an everyday thing now, I find, this sense of being so caught up in life as to miss it. I worry sometimes that I’ll wake up 10 years from now and ask, ‘Was I really there?’ How easy it is to lose the world in the plot twists of your own personal narrative. But that’s what happens when we’re caught in the forced march of trying to Do It All.”
So I guess all I’m saying is, it’s a fine line but if you get to the point where you’ve gone a couple of weeks giving minimal effort to pretty much everything, you’ve gotta make a change.
You’re right, Melissa. I do find I work better on a somewhat regimented schedule, though out of sheer necessity I have to be able to bend that. Sometimes when I have a conflict, I go by this: Am I going to remember this event(meeting, class, reading) in five years? If I think no, I’m OK with skipping something once in a while to just hang out with my kids. Because they’re always doing things I’ll remember in five years.
Tanya
I have some perspective on this myself, now that I’m middle-aged, my kids are teens and I’m deeply entrenched in a career in publishing that I adore. Parenthood and community involvement (beyond the PTO, in my case, like you) have done at least ad much for me as all the classes and other tasks I knew I *should* be doing. But all the classes in the world are pretty worthless if you don’t put what you’ve learned into action. My advice… just keep the best balance you can and give yourself extra credit for the
real life experiences that you have that so many of your
peers don’t have the privilege to enjoy. College, by itself, is
not what makes your life well rounded, but experience out
in the larger world. Something academics tend to undersell,
which is a shame. Practice, not theory, is how you grow as
a human being.
Tamara Sellman
http://www.writersrainbow.com
Parenthood and
sorry for typos… posted via cell phone!
Thanks Tamara! You’re absolutely correct. Life experience is the best experience. And I’ve found, actually, that my life experience between undergrad (11 years ago) and grad school has done a great job of preparing me to be a better student. I can’t discount that. And, for what it’s worth, though I do think a lot of academia undersells that, I do feel like my nonfiction professors here at EWU value that experience, and they’re teaching me just how to use it. I’m gonna check out your link now!
Tanya,
The one thing I regret from second year is to not fully embrace the luxury of working with an amazing mentor on my thesis. There were so many classes, activities, and other opportunties I also wanted to do. The thesis got done and I’m happy with the result, but I wish I would have taken the time to enjoy it more. Because I fit it in with all the other stuff, it was often a stressful experience.
There will always be writing classes to take and community organizations to volunteer for, but you will only get the undivided attention of a mentor this year. I’m not saying cut out the other stuff you want to do, but make sure you schedule writing/editing time for your thesis every day.
Practical and wonderful advice, Asa. I will take it to heart. Natalie is brilliant and I will soak up as much as I can.