A reflective thought for the morning - life's path and a PhD

"Wonder" - flickr user Jeremy Isaacson

Fifteen years ago, 10 years ago, 5 years ago, I would see PhD opportunities come through my email stream almost daily and I'd gaze at them, wondering if I could do it, longing to try, to test my mettle, yearning for more learning.

A little less than five years ago, at the encouragement of my partner​, we decided the timing was right to at least see if this path was one we wanted to take. After lots of discussion, even more prayer, and so. much. time listening for answers - the answers came in. And they came in by the shipload. It was clear that I was being called to teaching and education. In what capacity, I didn't know (still don't). But a PhD was THE next step to take.

Trusting in those assurances we were heading in the right direction, but not seeing/knowing the outcome - where would it lead me, what sort of job would I eventually be in, where would we be living, etc. - was incredibly difficult for me...because I'm a planner and like the control of my own destiny. But I soon came to realize I was focusing too much on the exact path and where it took me rather than lifting my head and looking around, appreciating the moment and everything around me. And it's glorious! I'm still working on honing this new perspective for me, but it's lovely, this horizon line.

After swallowing the collective lumps in our throats, steadying our nerves, and trusting in the ways that are right and just, we stepped off into the the great unknown. And what a journey it's been. It's not always easy - in fact, many times the path is fraught with troubles. But I'm so grateful to be in this PhD program, in this moment in my life, with such remarkable support from friends, family, and my partner and children.

All this, and so much more, came immediately bubbling up when I saw an email in my inbox this morning for a PhD opportunity at Iowa State University. While I have taken to passing over these PhD opportunity emails (at least for the time being), for whatever reason seeing the email this morning struck me quick. And helped me realize just how grateful I am to be here. If I wouldn't have listened to my heart, listened to trusted friends and family around me, nor had my head up and eyes and ears open to all the signs pointing me here, I may still be sailing troubled waters.

Funny how these things happen.

If YOU have ever been curious about graduate school and want to chat, I'm happy to - leave a comment here and we'll connect. If you're looking for a listing of federal jobs, check out USA Jobs. If you're looking for graduate school jobs, check out NatureJobs and ScienceCareers. If you're a recent graduate of college, or a current student, check out this job board. Looking for a fisheries career, check out the AFS jobs board (THE most visited page on their website). Looking for a wildlife career, check out TWS jobs board. Looking for academic jobs, check out Chronicles of Higher Education's job postings. Looking for non-academic jobs, check out VersatilePhD.

Thank you for sharing this reflective moment with me. Now go follow your heart.

An obituary

Extinguished Candle by Flickr user diannna-art

I was recently asked to help write an obituary for a friend (more of a family member, really) that recently moved up in the grand scheme of things. I was both honored and...somewhat terrified. Would I be up to the task? Would I cover everything that should be covered? Would my writing of the obituary be clouded(?) by my own particular and unique view of her (and our friendship)? Would I forget to include one of her relatives? Would I offend someone by including or excluding things about her life? Would the family like what I wrote?

So I was glad to have a partner-in-writing. In truth, my partner carried more of the writing load, something I was (perhaps?) oddly OK with - playing a more supportive rather than lead role. I set about my task with a near-religious fervor that rather surprised me. Perhaps it was because I was helping write it in relative obscurity. Or perhaps it was because the bulk of the writing fell to someone else. Regardless, it felt good to put together lists of people, career highlights, quotes, words I thought described or characterized her, and remembrances of her from others. From this, I was able to craft out a few paragraphs that had me feeling pretty good about it and that I felt (hoped) honored her. My partner-in-writing also crafted some wonderful text (better than I could ever have written) and, after we pulled it all together and put the finishing touches it on it, sent it off to the family for review.

And that's when my nerves really set in. Did they like it? Did they think it honored her enough? Would they think differently of me? Did the few words we laid down do her life justice? I said a quick prayer of tranquility and was suddenly bathed in the knowledge that it would be OK. They would like it. It was honorable and complete. It was as it should be.

I'm sure there are all kinds of hints and how-tos out there for writing obituaries. But I didn't want to find them. I just wanted to write what came from my heart. And trust that the (my) truths and understandings of who she was would come across correctly and be honorable.

And the one truth that really struck me was this: her family (our family) wanted us to write about her life...because they trusted us. And loved us. And we loved her (and them). And that was all that mattered. And in the end, that was all that mattered. The words came and fell together. We shared. Were trusted and trusted in return. And loved. And are loved. And we honored all of that. And in doing so, honored her and her life. And it was as it should be.

So if you are ever asked to write an obituary for a friend, I would just offer these few snippets: it will be emotionally trying. It will consume you for a bit. You will doubt. But hear - and believe - this: trust in those that asked you. Trust in their confidence in you. Trust in your knowledge of and relationship with that person. And trust your heart. For if you do that, everything will certainly turn out as it should.