"What's next?" The Doctorate is Secured, but Beyond Remains Shrouded

In the last post, I mentioned finishing my dissertation in the context of reflecting on writing strategy. This post will be a bit more personal. On her own blog (here), a friend and colleague raised the existential question of not yet knowing "...what (fingers crossed!) being Dr. Cass means for my future and our family," and indeed that is the impasse I face. First, let me sum up the facts.

Officially, I will graduate in the Fall, but on August 12 I successfully defended my dissertation before my committee, with only minor revisions required. Then, I did some fact-checking and editing, and on Monday (18th), my chair and I met to review my revisions, which in the aggregate were approximately 3 pages. For the remainder of the week, I made the last few tweaks, got approval to print, and took the final necessary steps (i.e., checking the copies, uploading the draft to a database, taking surveys, etc.) to complete my degree, among which the last one was filing for in absentia status for next Fall. So, setting aside whether or not I can claim "Dr." yet, I'm at least a "graduand."

I'm feeling better about it now than I was after passing the defense. Even though I knew the edits wouldn't take long or be contentious, I now get why my good friend that graduated last Summer initially wasn't as excited as I expected when she passed. We know it'll be done, but there's still something about merrily striding to the Graduate Dean's Office with a copy that is signed, sealed, and about to be delivered.

For me, part of the existential ambiguity about this new development comes from not having an answer to the seemingly simple but incessantly haunting inquiry, "What's next?" I have had trouble finding a position in the field in which I did my internship, though I keep looking. That too many applicants remain per post offers only some salve to the ego, but leaves the problem unsolved. My long-time interest in my field of study survived the dissertation process alive and well - after some languish between the 60-80% marks - but right now at this point in my life, a role that would require my continued engagement with academic research culture doesn't seem viable. I would be up for teaching - and could very well enjoy it - but not pledging to publish x by date y. I like researching to tackle problems, but I lack the "sterner stuff" for the nit-picky, ego-driven, competitive style that leaves me feeling inadequate in the very subject otherwise engaging.

There are three more points of Alexis' blog post to which I related, and they all center around purposefulness. She found her stress over asking, "what does it mean" is mollified considerably by knowing she is where she should be. Her home life gives her solace, comfort, purpose, and joy (...or that's what I took from the post.) I want to find a decent position, preferably in my field so I can build on it, but I don't want my job to be all-consuming. The book I cited in this weekend's post is aware of the relationship problems that heavy research can bring before candidly suggesting that if you continue as a professor, they never go away. I want my relationship to come first.

At least, when I find one. I'm not in a relationship right now, and without going "TMI", I do want to acknowledge that two relevant contributing factors to the breakup of my last relationship were my inability to find a job, and lack of dissertation productivity. Well, one of those problems is gone, but, first, I sure don't want to recreate it! Second, when I ask, "what does this mean for me", one of the sub-questions entangled in that rather bloated one is, how will this - finishing, getting my PhD - impact my search for someone special with which to share my unknown future? For just over a year, "working on my dissertation" has been the main thing I've been doing. (The dissertation took longer, but before that I also had classes.) Now, what do I say?

Also, Sternberg seems to think finishing might alter one's social networks, but I'm not sure if I want that, either. After all, if I don't want to be a profession-first/relationship-second type, I don't want my networking opportunities to bias toward that type, either. I just hope it doesn't put distance between me and my match, though that at least seems more in my control than answering the question, "what now?" or "what next?" In seeking to de-emphasize those questions, and in how they make me feel, I put myself in an insecure light - the psychological footprint of social dislocation.

I'm scared to launch out far and wide. I do look off in not-too-distant metropolitan areas (i.e. others in North, South, and East Texas, Oklahoma). Although I enjoy living where I do, I understand I may have to make some adjustments - just as I had to move to pursue this degree (my alumnus didn't offer any doctorates in the School of Arts & Sciences). Still, I am not up for chucking it all and going somewhere like D.C. or marooning in Fargo or Fairbanks. Maybe that makes me "entitled" - so be it.

Part of my friend's purpose comes from her 3 miracle babies. Well, actually, as I type this, I'm enjoying a new partial addition of my own. No, not my non-existent illegitimate child visiting for the weekend, but the very real "TNR" neighborhood cat who visits me regularly. While I'm not going to equate my cat(s) with her kids, they're still a source of purpose. A handsome chum like "Bob" - what I call him - should easily find a home, don't you agree?

From what I've read, the ear clipping suggests that whoever found him thought he was too feral to be homed. He showed up on my patio months ago, and we've slowly gotten to know each other. He was skittish once upon a time, but given a chance he's quite the companion. He's found he actually wants more than just a refueling depot - he wants attention. He's sometimes too much cat for Chelsea (more on the cat that is definitely mine some other time), but no doubt he's a lover not a fighter. The last furry addition wasn't a match, so I'm thankful to God for the chance to share some kibble with this guy, spend time with him, and enjoy the humor of his antics - such as with the toys that now bore Chelsea. If I have to move, will he come?

When it comes to God's hand on relationships, though, I wish I knew more what was to come. I wish he could have guided me to renew my last relationship, and helped us see one another as we once did - along with the possibilities. In fact, I wish I could trust in those possibilities with someone yet to come. That aspect of the road that lies ahead remains just as shrouded in the dense fog of mystery as does my career. On some level, what will be - like what turns I'll take on that route - has yet to be decided, and that's never been something with which I've been very comfortable.