I’ve always looked forward to September, since I dislike summer the way most people dislike winter. Growing up Jewish, I enjoyed the idea of the new year starting in autumn, my favorite season, and since my life also revolved around the school year as a kid, I became even more convinced my people had gotten it right. Rosh Hashanah, which begins tonight, remains one of those Jewish celebrations I have kept in my life despite being an atheist.
This year’s onslaught of back-to-school advertising made me a little sad, as it was a year ago that I started my last (and best) semester of teaching. I miss that classroom. But, as I wrote about this week, it’s time to shift focus towards other plans and goals. Last night I decided to practice what I preached, and wrote an email to my thesis advisor and mentor with a proposal for how to get my academic writing back on track. It might be my thesis, it might be a journal article, but I’ll be damned if I allow all that time, work, and love I put into my career to simply vanish into the ether along with my health.
I sometimes like to say I “ruined my health” doing something from the past few years. As in, “I ruined my health in the pursuit of my education.” It’s not true, or is only partly true – my current disability is due to a whole mess of stuff and not just one thing – but it makes me feel like a character out of Dickens, or a classical composer. Those people were always ruining their health doing something. Also it makes my accomplishments seem much more impressive that way.
Anyway, happy new year, and may it be sweet like apples and honey. I send you off with “You Are Never Alone” by Socalled, klezmer hip-hop made even more awesome by this trippy video.
When I finally had to quit my job, almost one year ago, I saw my plans and dreams collapse. This wasn’t just a 9-to-5 to pay the bills; this was a vocation. I loved teaching and especially in a situation that had been tailor-made for me. I envisioned writing my master’s thesis and looking into getting it published, and eventually receiving a doctorate in deaf education or applied linguistics, and becoming a tenured university professor.
Back when I was healthy, focusing on these dreams was a positive and useful activity. I was always brainstorming ways to teach better, write better, carve out my niche in academia. However, since becoming nerfed, focusing on these same dreams brings feelings of grief and loss, rather than excitement and the urge to plan. I begin obsessing over what could have been, which is a fairly sizable waste of time.
But it’s a mistake to give up on dreaming about our futures in a positive way. No, I’m not making any plans that are contingent on a miracle cure or my CFS going into remission. I’m changing my focus to dreams for my future that are meaningful, realistic, and achievable. And it’s a struggle, for sure. How much easier it would be to simply curl up in bed and forget about the extra effort – and associated pain and illness – it will take to craft a life for myself out of the scraps I have left.
However, that just isn’t who I am. I’m not capable of giving up on my life yet, and I’m lucky to be functional enough to make that stand. My newly nerfed life still needs to be fulfilling. (This blog is a small part of that.) So I was interested to receive a review copy of Jonathan Mead’s e-book, Reclaim Your Dreams. I was curious whether a motivational text might apply to the nerfed, as well as to the able-bodied in a rut.
I’ve always looked forward to September, since I dislike summer the way most people dislike winter. Growing up Jewish, I enjoyed the idea of the new year starting in autumn, my favorite season, and since my life also revolved around the school year as a kid, I became even more convinced my people had gotten it right. Rosh Hashanah, which begins tonight, remains one of those Jewish celebrations I have kept in my life despite being an atheist.
