When I first started my dissertation research I was deeply, deeply in lust with my research.
This was before I finalized my topic in any formal way (e.g., dissertation proposal written, prospectus meeting with my committee). I was in lust when I had a pretty good idea of what my topic was. I talked about "My Research" constantly and to whoever would listen (or pretend to). Everywhere I turned, Signs were present confirming that My Research was IMPORTANT EXCITING INNOVATIVE BRILLIANT. I sometimes dreamt of My Research and awoke to find myself hugging my laptop-turned-pillow...to rush downstairs at 5 a.m. to conduct another lit search, read another chapter, compose another research-related blog post.
Then at some point my lust for My Research cooled. I had some doubts. I was unsure of Research's feelings for me, and mine for it. My Research seemed neither important nor exciting. It was clearly neither new nor brilliant. But slowly, somehow, eventually our feelings for each other prevailed.
I fell in love with My Research.
Soon afterwards I was ready to declare my love for My Research openly. I outted my love to the whole University community in a dissertation fellowship aaplication, then to my committee members during my proposal meeting. When I left the conference room following that meeting I was sure that everyone was looking, saying "Ahhh, don't they make a cute couple?"
Signatures were signed; official papers were filed. My Research and I were thus wed.
But as luck would have it--and, as is the case with many newlyweds--no sooner had we made this committment than we were thrust again into uncertainty. A relationship with Research takes a huge committment. This I found. A relationship with Research takes work. This, too, I found. Love is not always love-ly.
This I found every time I rolled over and saw my ugly, annoying, needy Research curled up in bed next to me.
Of course, this state of affairs made things ripe for...wandering attention. Ooooo, I would sometimes think, look at that gorgeous research topic. Other times, my imagination would soar with images of What It Would Be Like To Not Be Researching At All. Or worse, when my attention would be firmly directed to My Research, It would instead ignore me, not offering up previously easy insights...not speaking to me when I was trying to engage it in scholarly conversation.
But. I did make a committment--and in front of College and Committee. I tried to remember all the things that drew me to My Research in the first place: all the little insights that could set my mind all a-flutter, all the gestures that seemed to link all the academic paths I had followed. I read and re-read the love letters of our early brainstorming sessions. I reviewed like snapshots all of our dates in cyberspace, in the library stacks, and in piles of transcript pages.
Now I can say with certainty that I am in love with My Research--again. And, as far as I can tell, It is in love once again with me.
What comes next? Well, I think I know now that any Research worth having is Research that is worth working at. And I know that loving My Research is cyclical and will not be constantly sunshine and roses. I am fortunate to have guiding me a mentor who is with his own Research an old, but still very much in love, married couple--one that has produced many, many children and even more grandchildren.
My Research and I are trying for our own first offspring: We have a proposal submitted for a conference presentation! Wish us luck!
In the meantime, I gotta go. I have a date with a tall, dark and incredibly brilliant Lover.
Posted by perry032 at March 19, 2006 05:25 PM