If you follow my twitter feed, you probably already know that earlier this month was the one year anniversary of my father’s death. It wasn’t a bad day, all things considered. I spent it with people who loved him, and we spent it remembering him.
But this anniversary thing has had a profound effect on my month as a whole. I’ve been reflecting a lot on the way this last year turned out versus what I expected it to be on the morning of August 8, 2008. All my projects and plans went out the window because of one phone call, or rather, because of something I learned about in that one phone call: my generally healthy dad had collapsed and been rushed to the hospital. He was, I learned later, DOA. Heart attack.
The year I had anticipated, all the goals I had set – that future evaporated in an instant. I couldn’t hold anything in my head except my father’s death. In November that overwhelming fact was joined by another – my maternal grandmother had a ticking time bomb in her abdomen, an aneurysm that could burst at any time. From what the doctors said, we weren’t sure she’d make it to Christmas, 2008. So I was living book-ended by death; one behind, one before. And from then on, that was all I could see.
But here’s what I realized this month: first, my grandmother is still with us, and anticipating her imminent death isn’t doing either of us any good. Second, I may have spent the year feeling like my little ship of goals and dreams was sinking, but the reality is it’s still afloat.
I still fulfilled all of my commitments. I taught my classes; submitted papers to conferences; fulfilled the terms of both of my fellowships; wrote my dissertation, wrote fiction, applied for future funding, gave lectures. I ended this past year right where I need to be.
So how did I miss all that while it was going on? How did I become my own worst critic?
The conclusion I’ve come to isn’t anything particularly radical or revelatory. I always plan to do more than I have to do, and in the case of this last year, I’ve done only what I had to do. Thing is, up until recently I was still holding myself accountable for all my want-to-do’s. In my befuddled state, I was kicking myself for prioritizing.
This is the question I was left with: I know I can function through a crisis, but is it possible that I could learn to function well? And by “well,” I really just mean not cause myself unnecessary additional stress or negativity. To return to the iceberg analogy – how do I best stock the lifeboats? Even if I don’t have to use them, knowing they’re ready is a pretty effective de-stressor.
Research, as you know, is my answer to everything. So in the past few weeks I’ve done some reading and made a couple of changes to my work- and lifestyles as a result of what I found out.
I’ll be blogging about what exactly those changes are in separate posts over the next few weeks. But I’ll leave you with this little nugget for today.
Take a quiet moment sometime soon and draw a mental line between your need-to-do’s and want-to-do’s. Not every need is associated with work or family or income. Not every need will be validated by others. And both of those truths are okay. This isn’t anyone else’s line in the sand, it’s yours, so draw it however you please. When the next iceberg hits, you’ll be able to make better choices about where to put your energy.

I'm a writer. At the moment I'm working on a science fiction novel. I'm also a feminist academic finishing up my doctoral dissertation on fairy tales and myth in popular culture. I'm ALSO (yup, there's more) an entrepreneur getting ready to launch my own coaching practice. Okay, that's it. For now.
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Lovely, my dear. I have been thinking of you and knew the anniversary was coming up but didn’t realize we were already half way through August. Anyway, my apologies for not sending love your way on 8/8; but know that there is always love showering down on your from the Pacific Northwest. And, congrats on getting things done in the midst of loss and grief as well as allowing yourself to not only experience this epiphany, but also do something with it. ::applause::
Lots of love.