It has been one month since I’ve moved from Switzerland to Germany. A month since I defended my PhD dissertation on cultural barriers in globally distributed teams, and how the computer-mediated technologies we use can reveal invisible cultural values and cultural differences (see my 20 minute defence presentation here).
The PhD feels close, yet far away. I’ve been learning how to slow down, to relax, and to take time. I’ve been learning not to measure the worth of my days (and indirectly, myself) by how productive I’ve been. I’ve been learning how to sit in the discomfort of not knowing what’s next, and all the anxiety and anticipation it encompasses.
I don’t know my path yet.
So I bike around and explore the city. I try out new cafes and people watch. I read and think and draw. I get inspired. I write down ideas. I feel up. I feel down. I feel like I’m making progress and gaining clarity. I learn that clarity can’t be forced. In moments of quiet and stillness, I know I’m on the right path. In moments of fear, I’m itching to have it all figured out and am despondent I’m not there yet. After completing such a big milestone, I’ve never felt so lost.
As Glennon Doyle Melton writes, “You are not supposed to be happy all the time. Life hurts and it’s hard. Not because you’re doing it wrong, but because it hurts for everybody. Don’t avoid the pain. You need it. It’s meant for you. Be still with it, let it come, let it go, let it leave you with the fuel you’ll burn to get your work done on this earth.”
So I sit with this discomfort. I invite it for tea. “What are you here to tell me?”, I say.
As Melton writes, “Just do the next right thing, one thing at a time. That’ll take you all the way home.”
The Mindful Academic 