returning to the divided life discussion

Back in February, I wrote about Parker Palmer and his concept of the divided life. I noted that different aspects of my life had been divided in different ways. In grad school in Houston, I found the division between the Church Streak and Grad School Streak untenable and finally worked to remove that divide.

But a conversation with Bucky reminded me of other divides, namely that pressure between being a professional academic and regular, functional, human being. It isn't a universal divide, but those around academics might know what I mean. For me, as Bucky and I talked, was the divide between those who had achieved professional success and those who had more unified personal lives. I really don't know what the divorce rate is for grad school, but I can count five couples who divorced either during grad school or immediately after.

In fact, grad school challenges in several ways--at least in my experience. I went in fully expecting to be challenged intellectually, and was not disappointed. My writing improved dramatically (not that the blog displays that, heh) and I think my ability to make broader connections and understand complex ideas improved. But the bigger challenge--and one I didn't anticipate--was the emotional side. I found the process of getting my PhD overwhelming at times, and mostly from an emotional and existential point of view. What did it mean, and more importantly sometimes, what didn't it mean?

The divide seemed to occur when I looked at people who seemed to be good at only one thing--writing and researching history. Their personal lives were, in many cases, complicated, and in several cases, research and writing served as the escape hatch from difficult personal issues. I remember envying them at some level--that they could channel anxiety or personal fears into research and writing. I utterly fail at that. When my personal world is in shambles, the last thing I care about is history.

So, the divide often appeared in funny ways. Someone who always badmouthed my scholarship, but who could have learned from me regarding personal relationships. Or, one of my fellow grad students who immediately found a tenure-track job after school, yet who seems incapable of forging a meaningful personal relationship, and who still seems to look down on me. Or at least, that is how I feel.

This week saw the rebirth of that divide. I applied for a job (rather tepidly, to be fair) for which I am qualified, but found out yesterday that I didn't even get a look. Last night, I spiralled into the familiar feeling of "not measuring up" and hopelessness that comes with these rejections. I look with envy at those who found jobs immediately. Sometimes I am angry that they found their position so quickly. Those I respect the most are always understanding. Others tend to internalize that fortune as a sign that they really are a better scholar than I.

And maybe they are. Maybe they are. I was reminded this morning how fortunate I am to have certain people in my life. My wife couldn't be more supportive, I think, if she tried. My closest friends, CIL, Anglican, and the Buckster, are loyal to a fault. Turning it around, I am not terribly successful as a scholar. I haven't published as much as I would like, and my teaching has been rough of late. But I have been successful in my personal relationships. I have made connections to students well beyond the names and dates of history. Some of them remain friends to this day. Others tell me they have learned a lot from me, and never see history quite the same after my class.

Anyway. I am rambling a bit now. But I have to remind myself that sometimes I measure my worth and contribution by published journal articles and books that few read, and forget the human connections that I value more. If I accept that divide, I measure myself by people I don't even respect. And that is a non-starter.

FWIW.