The Moment

It is rumored to be the last warm weekend of the year, and there was only one sensible thing to do, despite this being my prelim-prep month. The four of us trouble-makin' Tamayo's went to the beach!

One thing that I love about the beaches in Chicago is how urban they are. We usually go to Ohio Street Beach, which is right next to downtown, with towering glass edifices sticking their chests directly out to the wide open lake. As the sun moves across the west side of the sky, their shadows pierce eastward and sweep toward the beach (the beach in this location is north-facing).

After we had been in the shadow of one of these beasts for a chilly 30 minutes, I noticed the tops of just a couple of waves were glowing. I was holding Tula all wrapped up in a towel, when I told Bubs that the sun must have been reflecting off of a building in just the right way to do this. I kept watching until it became a fine trace of sunlight. It widened- only slightly- as it swept closer to the shore, where Torin was still kicking the waves as they broke.

I saw it coming, tucked Tula into her chair and hustled with my camera to catch these:


It wasn't a reflection at all, but the sun itself slipping through a sliver between two buildings. Just for a moment, he was in it...


... and just like that, it had passed.


Without any sadness or longing and not even relief, a new moment began. And then another, and another.

...

I'm back!

Wow. It's been one hell of a year!

I did end up learning a lot from my former PI but not at all what I expected to learn. She was mean! So mean. And I wanted to please her, interpreting her meanness as challenge, something that I love to rise to. She was inconsistent- one day reminding me to tell her when I needed a break (for kids, she said) and I would ask her for time for finals, but she would refuse. I got there early. I went home, nursed my infant, and went out to work again. I would provide data and she would shoot it down, without even looking at it. I would return home dazed, unable to interact with my children, lost in reviewing my data in my head, and obsessed with how she could find fault in it. My 'friends', students themselves, were not supportive, deciding that if they were in my place, they could deal with it. Finally, my PI stopped talking to other professors in the same section, and then some of her own staff--staff that I respect--stopped interacting with her. I finally understood that my 'friends' were wrong- she really was a uniquely vile as I thought, and I left.

I spent over a year in her lab. I had my daughter while I was there. I took less than two weeks off for maternity leave, because I wanted to work on a project that I believed in. Even as she begged me not to leave, I knew that I would have to sacrifice even more if I stayed, and I knew I could be just as productive, but in a better environment.

Just as I became a fragmented person, I learned so much about myself- both about who I was a bot over a year ago and about who I am still in the process of recreating. I learned about the world of competitive research. I learned about my beliefs and my hopes.

"What's all this "fragmented person" business?", you might be asking! I think if a person has been shattered- questioning everything about their existence- then that person knows what I mean. I've been trying to explain it to myself for a year, and it's only starting to make sense! Some versions of my explanations involve that I was trying to do too much, with too much pressure from too many people, but that's not it. Other versions involve that, due in part to my lack of experience, I failed to identify my former PI as a bad mentor. The same result is due to my lack of belief that a person would be intentionally hostile to someone they've invested in. I could write about women who bully women. I could write about mental health issues in research. I will, at some time, write about both.

Right now, though, I want to share what I think I would like to have read then. There's usually not one thing that makes a person depressed, and there's almost never one thing that makes them better. Eating good food, exercising, taking antidepressants, meditating, and going to talk therapy are all part of the package, but each one is a ritual that symbolizes your dedication to taking good care of yourself, loving yourself, honoring yourself, and being respectful of your whole self.

Mr. Torin and Tula-Roo have grown so much since I've posted last! I've engaged in my new research. My Dearest Chris left his jobs in SF so he can be here full time. (Looking for a job in Chicago in this economy in a city where we don't know anyone is seriously challenging.)

Meanwhile, we still get to be together, and do fun things for FREE in Chicago. I still get to study what I love to study, and be with three of the most fun people I've ever met!

I will most certainly reference my last year of hell, but I hereby dedicate this blog to living a good life while parenting, studying, looking for work and finding beauty and adventure where we can! Cheers to adventure!