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| "Language is the symbolism which holds thoughts together. It plays a requisite part in the growth of thinking and enables us to use acquired knowledge for various purposes." - Piaget I was remembering and revering my kindergarten ESL teacher, one of several who have propelled me along a journey I couldn't have imagined in my wildest 6 year old dreams when that first spark of scholarly curiosity was ignited. Thank you for your continued excellence in supporting English language learners in primary public education, Mrs. L. Feichtinger-McGrath! |
As is common practice during the season, transition into a new year
has encouraged reflection on the path traversed. Since encountering it about a year
ago, one of Wadsworth’s most well-known poems has served as a framework for my
thoughts during this year of transition and helps to summarize my perceptions. Lines written a few miles above Tintern
Abbey on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour (July 13, 1798)
begins with “Five years have passed,” and so I trace my transitions during the
past year as a reflection of the broader transition that has occurred in the
past five years since completing my undergraduate career and beginning this weblog,
Notes en route. In addition to citing
several annotated passages from the work of literature and two songs that
represent the narrative of the poem, I’ll be referencing several passages from
writing recorded in my final semester of college 5 years ago and several from less
than 5 months ago to illustrate how the integration of all these works brings
meaning to my glance back and my gazing forward.
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| The longer I live in Iowa, the more impressed I become with the literary and other works and famous individuals that have emerged from this state. The individuals who posed for the American Gothic painting were actually a dentist and nurse, alumni of the University of Iowa! |
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| Description/explanation of the faces represented in such a famous work of art. |
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| I'm glad I had the chance to visit the Valley for the celebration of my grandmother's 80th birthday. |
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| Seeing my immediate family at the birthday party was a treat. |
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| My brother welcomes us for an evening visit after the party. We didn't see eye-to-eye as teens but I'm content with the way both of us are entering adulthood and able to relate to one another in new ways. |
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| A quick visit with my Richmond church family greeted me with an over-the-top cake. |
Though I hope you’ll enjoy the poem in its entirety elsewhere, I will cite
portions of it that have served as a foundation for my reflection. I appreciate
that Wadsworth penned this work to encourage conscious introspection regarding
the life stages that we traverse and the source of inspiration that sees us
through and beyond each phase.
Wadsworth begins with intentional naming and admiration of the source
of his inspiration:
The day is
come when I again repose here, under this dark sycamore, and view…Though absent
long, these forms of beauty have not been to me, as is a landscape to a blind
man's eye: But oft, in lonely rooms, and mid the din of towns and cities, I have
owed to them, in hours of weariness, sensations sweet, felt in the blood, and
felt along the heart, and passing even into my purer mind with tranquil restoration:—feelings too of
unremembered pleasure; such, perhaps, as may have had no trivial influence on that
best portion of a good man's life; his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness
and of love. Nor less, I trust, to them I may have owed another gift, of aspect
more sublime; that blessed mood, in which the burthen of the mystery, in which
the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world is lighten'd:—that
serene and blessed mood, in which the affections gently lead us on, until, the
breath of this corporeal frame, and even the motion of our human blood almost
suspended, we are laid asleep in body, and become a living soul: While with an
eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into
the life of things.
In a posture of gratitude and acknowledgement of having become a
different person, he offers the belief that such inspiration will continue in
the future, even if in a more mature form:
How oft, in
spirit, have I turned to thee O sylvan Wye!...in this moment there is life and food for future years. And so I
dare to hope though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first I cam among
these hills: when like a roe I bounded o’er the mountains, by the sides of the
deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led; more like a man
flying from something that he dreads, than one who sought the thing he loved…That time is past, and all its aching joys
are now no more, and all its dizzy raptures. Not for this faint I nor mourn nor
murmur; other gifts have followed, for such loss, I would believe, abundant
recompense. For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of
thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity, nor
harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue. And I have felt
a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
of something far more deeply interfused…Therefore am I still a lover of…all the
mighty world of eye and ear, both what they half-create, and what perceive;
well pleased to recognize in nature and the language of the sense, the anchor
of my purest thoughts, the nurse, the guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
of all my moral being.
Wadsworth then counsels his “friend and sister” on the remaining
committed to courageous mobilization by that same inspiration (I interpret this
additional character as the future self that is being sent forth):
In thy
voice I catch light, the language of my former heart, and read my former
pleasures in the shooting lights of thy wild eyes…And this prayer I make,
knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her; ‘tis her
privilege, through all the years of this our life, to lead from joy to joy, for
she can so inform the mind that is within us, so impress with quietness and
beauty, and so feed with lofty thoughts that neither evil tongues, rash judgements,
nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the
dreary intercourse of daily life, shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb our
cheerful faith that all which we behold is full of blessings.
Continuing with a call to bold pursuit, he concludes his counsel with
a glimpse of the outcomes of such effort:
Therefore,
let the moon shine on thee in they solitary walk; and let the misty mountain
winds be free to blow against thee: and in after years, when these wild
ecstasies shall be matured into a sober pleasure, when thy mind shall be a
mansion for all lovely forms, they memory be as a dwelling-place for all sweet sounds
and harmonies; Oh! Then, if solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, should be thy
portion, with what healing thoughts of tender joy wilt thou remember me, and
these my exhortations!...Nor wilt though then forget, that after many
wanderings, many years of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs, and this
green pastoral landscape, were to me more dear, both for themselves and for thy
sake.
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| I'm glad to have cast my ballot in mid-October before the end of a taxing election cycle. |
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| Being welcomed as a member of the local church further integrates me into my new hometown. |
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| A second-year dental student and I join the Univeristy of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics orchestra for some challenging classical pieces in the fall semester. |
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| Part of my fellowship allowed me the opportunity of providing an oral health workshop to some residents of a long-term care facility, reminding me of similar initiatives that I pursued as a dental student. |
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| A gifted orchid from one of my patients. Treating many older adults, I make many a denture (a 5-7 appointment process) and get to know each of them as we go through each of the uniquely demanding appointments of the treatment. |
I can certainly trace the sentiment of my worldview and aspiration undergoing a development similar to what Wadsworth describes. The below soundtrack from the 2016 film Moana (“How far I’ll go") may represent my perspective 5 years ago at the time when I was leaving an undergraduate liberal arts learning community to embark on a 4 month service trip before moving onward to pursue training in dentistry. I found that the Russian translation speaks more loudly to me, so I’ve included a literal translation of it rather than the original lyrics:
Снова слышу этот голос прибоя, Кто я? /Again, I hear the voice at the shore, Who am I?
Где мое сердце? Знает лишь одна вода. /Where is my heart? Only the water knows.
Сто раз, обещала им не спорить /
Но влечёт меня моря. Как будто я её волна. /
Каждый новый шаг, каждый поворот /
Каждый след и знак вновь меня ведет /
В мир больших ветров и бездонных вод /
Я хочу уплыть /
А в глазах каждый день океан бескрайний /
Меня зовёт за горизонт /
Вот бы парус поднять, /Oh, if only to raise my sail
В путь отправиться дальний /
Он свет прольёт на всё то что там /It will shed light on all that is awaiting
Меня так долго
ждёт /Me there for so long.
Течёт жизнь на острове беспечно /
Вечно людям доставляя /Forever granting people
Радости день ото дня /
Знает каждый в чём его доля, /Each one knows their part,
Все играют свои роли /All play their role,
И может мне пойдёт моя /
Стану я вождём, поведу народ. /
Будем процветать мы из года в год /
Только сердце мне не про то поёт. /But my heart sings a different song to me.
Что не так со
мной? /What is wrong with me?
Вижу солнечный путь на волнах хрустальных /
Он за собой меня ведёт. /
И я знаю, что он хочет /
Мне открыть свои тайны. /To reveal its secrets to me.
Ну как? В перед! /So, what’ll it be? Onward!
Сделай первый шаг, побори свой
страх. /Make the first step, conquer your fear.
А в глазах каждый день океан бескрайний /
Меня зовёт за горизонт /
Вот бы парус поднять, /Oh, if only to raise my sail
В путь отправиться дальний /
Он свет что меня ждёт! /It will shed light on what awaits me!
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| Fall in Iowa, the state described as "fields of opportunities" |
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| Spending my birthday weekend with friends in Denver, Colorado. |
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| I enjoyed presenting 4 sessions at the American Public Health Association conference and hearing the announcement regarding the passing of a policy statement that I co-authored. It's hard to believe that I had started attending this meeting just 4 years ago. The colleague who first co-authored an poster that brought me to the meeting is still a good friend and valuable colleague (pictured). |
A senior seminar course (Dealing
with Suffering and Loss) during my last semester of college reflects the
way in which I had been shaped through 2.5 years of undergraduate training
within an Christian liberal arts program and how I perceived impending
dental training and my future career. Five years later, I find that I am still
considering some of these discoveries.
(9.16.11): The only thing I can’t resist and enjoy more than being busy and
having a tight schedule is agreeing to random altruistic deeds…I tend to
dismiss any resentment that may creep close to my feelings as futile, empty,
and undeserving of my time.
(9.30.16): What I have begun to uncover is that competency is not how well I
can contain life with my bare hands, but how well I can extend this life to
interact with others in my joys, hardships, and sorrows.
(10.19.11): Going into my dental school interview, I had pretty-well figured
out exactly what I wanted to be after dental school (and what I would obtain
while there). However, contemplating on how much I am enjoying teaching/mentoring
as a tutor and the fascination that I am developing for research and
higher-level biological investigations, it is less clear to me what I want to
give up and what I should pursue. After my interview (during which I was able
to explore the options offered to my interests) it is even less clear what my
future holds. Do I pursue a dual DDS-PhD program and satisfy in both medical
care and scholarly research; will I need to legitimize the extra years in PhD
work by obtaining a dental specialty? Will these steps inevitably lead me to a
life-long career in a dental school and cause me to evade the integral
interaction within a community that I’d so looked forward to as apart of dental
practice? And if it were not complex enough, aren’t I already stretching the mold
of a Russian female dangerously thin by pursuing even an 8-year education?
(11.30.11): Nouwen suggests that we
“routinely forget how God makes our lives part of a larger life that stretches
far beyond the horizons of birth and death” (Turn my Mourning into Dancing, pg
93). Seeing one’s suffering and whole life as a small part of a larger story (a
part of which you did not write and a part that you will not write) both takes
emphasis off a specific loss and requires taking on full responsibility to
maintain and improve the inherited legacy…Education (and the job itself) was
viewed as an insignificant involvement that yields resources to adequately
participate in the real life (family life).
Whereas most college students are
initially alienated when leaving their home to pursue an education, the
alienation I have experienced has been gradual. The peculiarity lies in that I
am alienated without stepping out of my home; that is, I am farther from home
each day that I come home from school. After two and a half years at EMU, I am
finally experiencing “at home” episodes in my classes, while I feel nearly
completely foreign in my pre-college community. It could be said that attending
EMU was like a cross-cultural experience for me as I have still been very
involved in the Russian community. My summer cross-cultural experience in
Lithuania made me challenge indirect vocational goals that I’d initially known
(that work was to provide financial resources). Discovering that life was too
short to simply work and spend, I demanded that all my endeavors have meaning
and purpose for me as well as those around me. Embracing both my education and
work as meaningful and purposeful experiences, I have found much satisfaction
in being a biology major in the EMU community. Being shaped by scientific
inquiry during my several years at EMU has shown me the utility of an inquiring
mind in every aspect of life. I am very reluctant to leave the scientific
community and hope that I can find a niche that utilizes my scientific self,
while I develop a caretaking and craftsman self. The greatest way in which the
EMU experience has influenced the way I incarnate my vocational calling is that
I focus less on the action or the way it satisfies me and more on how my
actions fit into “the larger picture” of the lives around me and the “larger
picture of life” overall, as Nouwen describes incorporating loss (pg 93).
Dental school, I hope will be a great place to continue asking the questions
“what is the point of what I’m doing here?” and “how am I affecting those
around me and across the globe?” as well as discovering which endeavors to
adapt into a life-long vocation.
Discussing
my ideas, hopes, dreams, and strivings with family, I have been astounded to
find the “cloud of witnesses,” as Sittser (A Grace Disguised) describes, of
those with experiences identical to mine. My grandparents and parents had
experienced the anxiety of shaping their future and committing to a career.
They asked the same questions and still don’t have all the answers for me
today. What hindsight and experience did allow them to learn, however, is that
which I’ve learned at EMU, that it doesn’t matter so much what you do as how
you embrace your unique circumstances and extract meaning from experiences. As
I interact with and learn more about my heritage, I can better orient myself
amidst the uncertainties of my future, even though no answers or solutions are
provided for me. As I leave EMU to continue pursuing my vocational calling,
I hope that I can continue to learn what my heritage has offered me, what I
should commit to secure, and what I can add to my lineage’s legacy.
I
can relate to the identity struggle that occurs when one is consistently
conscious of the heritage that each one of us carries and the obligations that
seem to be accompany it. The distress occurs when we are granted new
opportunities that offer us the chance to exchange the self we thought we were
for a different experience. Nouwen
describes freedom from fear as accepting “the love that can soothe our compulsions
to hoard and pretend we can organize the future” (pg 35).
A Sustainable Agriculture course also
highlights the importance of relationship that characterized my undergraduate
academic development and identity formation.
(9.23.11):
Meaningful existence lies not in action, and maybe not even in attitude, but in
association.
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| I enjoyed a mountainous visit over Thanksgiving break to Highland County, VA where a friend and former classmate is serving the community as a dentist. |
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| Duong and I met at the class cookout right before the start of dental school. Neither of us were particularly excited about joining the social event but quickly became friends that steaming Richmond afternoon and for the years of training that followed. She is working in an underserved community, establishing some greatly needed initiatives for the health center and community. I was inspired by her committment and grateful for her hospitality during the brief visit. |
The worldview that I developed in college was solidified during my 4-month
internship in Latin America (the impetus for this weblog). The 4 years of
dental school that followed challenged this worldview and caused me to retreat
many a time back to “that landscape” that so inspired me to pursue the heights
of scholarship and clinical training. Ultimately, those set of core values and
beliefs shaped the depth and dimension of my dental training and encouraged me
to pursue post-professional residency/fellowship training in Iowa. As I recently
celebrated my commitment to a local church, I recognized what is perhaps the
center of my inspiration:
Membership
statement (11.13.16):
As
I’ve looked forward to covenanting with this congregation, I recalled a
scripture that was read during the service that marked the beginning of my
associate membership at FMC in Richmond, VA while I also maintained membership
in my childhood congregation in Harrisonburg, VA. The scripture comes from the
gospel of John where Jesus feeds the five thousand and walks on water before
the crowd becomes perplexed at his claim of being the bread descended from
heaven. After many of his followers desert, Jesus asks the disciples, “Don’t
you want to leave, as well?” And Simon Peter responds, “Lord, to whom shall we
go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know
that you are the holy one of God.”
Moving
from my home state, Virginia, and leaving the membership of a church of which
my father is still associate pastor, have encouraged me to discern how I
understand my identity as a follower of Jesus individually, as part of a faith
community, and as part of the pluralistic broader context that surrounds all of
us. Having opportunity to pursue higher education and imagine the future of my
life’s work has also prompted me to define my identity as a follower of Jesus
who happens to be a dentist (or whatever other ascribed credential/role),
rather than the other way around. As I continue this discipleship journey of
depending on the heaven-sent manna, I question the mysterious wonder bread that
comes in the form of each new opportunity with the words “What is it?” just as
the Israelites had in the desert and the crowds that were fed by Jesus. As I
attempt to yield with gratitude to the unique trajectory to which I am called,
I rejoice in the opportunity to walk alongside each of you who also seek to
faithfully follow in the steps of Jesus. Even as ongoing challenges in our
world ask us if we, too, want to abandon imitating the audacious example of
Jesus, I commit my voice to that of this congregation by saying, “Lord, to whom
shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to
know that you are the holy one of God.” I look forward to it being so.
Being asked to present the story of my family from
an immigrant perspective, I appreciate the “cloud of witnesses” that continues to
inform my journey:
Church
immigrant story (9.18.16)
Geographically,
my great-grandparents were from Ukraine and South-Central Russia and my
grandparents moved to the capital of Kazakhstan (then, Almaty) where my parents
were raised. Following an efflux of relatives moving to the US, my nuclear
family moved to Virginia to reunite with relatives. Both my parents’ families
were very active in the leadership of one of the city’s Evangelical Russian
Baptist Churches. As part of the youth group, my mom and dad participated in
many “undercover conventions” high in the mountains, late-night Bible studies
behind tightly closed window curtains, and serving in various congregational
roles while developing ministry skills through a few available formal training
opportunities. After their marriage, my parents moved to Ridder, a small rural
mining village in the northeast corner of Kazakhstan, where they embraced
exploring the mountainous region and welcoming their three children. The first
15 years of my parents’ married life were spent balancing ministry in a small
congregation with livelihood (a combination of sustenance farming, rotating as
cattle herders, and enjoying a growing family). Spending the first 5 years of
my life in this context as the youngest of 3, I got a snapshot of the kind of
life I could have had growing up in a region of the former Soviet Union.
The
transition of my paternal extended family to the United States encouraged my
parents to move their family to be reunited with the others in what was known
as “the nation of opportunity.” The support of extended family and connecting
with an established ex-Soviet immigrant community in the Shenandoah Valley was
central to the success of our resettlement, as were the educational, vocational,
and healthcare supports with which we were met in the initial years. Several
weeks after arriving in Virginia, I enrolled in kindergarten and celebrated a
6th birthday. There was stability in that first year through the celebration of
Christmas and Easter in similar or even more spectacular ways than we had
previously. My elementary English as a Second Language teacher helped us
embrace our new home with house visits, trips to the park, and even our first
outing to the roller-skating rink. Through her championship, I was propelled to
enjoy and do well in school. The subsequent 17 years of my family’s journey
(from my vantage point, in particular) has consisted of straddling on one hand
the strong ties to an immigrant community and extended family while on the
other hand stewarding opportunities about which we never could have dreamed. In
my situation these have included doctoral level education and international
travel. This has brought its own challenges for understanding the influence but
separation between culture and tradition from identity and faith formation.
Obtaining undergraduate training at Eastern Mennonite University prior to
dental training, I was able to apply and develop the values with which I was
raised in vocationally and scholastically-relevant ways. The struggle remains,
though, that I don’t often have the Russian vocabulary to describe in full
scope to my parents and grandparents all the exciting academic, clinical, or
research experiences that distance me from my childhood community. Even so, we
find mutual support in continuing to see our lives as those in service to
others, wherever or in whatever capacity. In this sense, God continues to
remind us to center our identity and purpose on the example of Jesus rather
than any region or culture.
Each
time that our family gets together, we represent a conglomeration of
birthplaces including Russia, Kazakhstan, China, El Salvador, and the United
States. Our mealtime conversations encompass 3 intermingled languages that
don’t always afford clarity on any given topic amidst the business of passing
Russo-American cuisine and looking after younger family members. But the love,
mutual support, and joy that this fellowship represents always transcends all
these details and proclaims of the table to which all are invited, regardless
of origin, culture, language, or age. I’m thankful for the guidance of God that
has seen my family to its current embodiment and circumstance and that each of
us are inspired to continue widening this circle of fellowship because of
knowing God’s faithfulness through our family’s journey.
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| There was no snow until the first weekend in December...but when it came, there was no mistaking that winter was here to stay. |
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| The weeks of advent that followed a contentious election were filled with a hope for better things. |
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| Agreeing to cover in clinic between Christmas and the New Year, I connected with my family for Christmas lunch over Skype from Iowa City. |
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| My Richmond family sent me the perfect gifts (tea and a mug with a bicycle on it) for cruising into the new year. |
Further considering my origins and how such a beginning continues to
shape my trajectory, I offered the meditation for a class writing exercise.
The
Road Not Taken (9.21.16):
A
journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. So decided an ancient
Chinese philosopher. My journey began under 200 miles northwest from the
homeland of that wise sage but was rerouted when my family immigrated to
Virginia. Navigating across a new culture in the juvenile task of crafting
identity and worldview, I contemplate the road not traveled and speculate about
all the difference this detour has made. Though childhood memories tend to
exist somewhere between history and fiction, I venture to recognize and
reimagine a few.
It’s
Easter! We share hard-boiled eggs dyed a deep burgundy with onion skins,
meringue-frosted sweet bread, and steaming black chai before my two older
siblings and I challenge the waist-high snowdrifts that our imaginations have
already molded into igloos and sledding ramps. By the end of April, warmer days
reveal soggy earth that has been hidden since October. Daily treks to the town
preschool where my mom works as a chef require fewer furry layers. During
several moist weeks in May, a continuous drizzle of acid rain burns micropores
through the preschoolers’ Taiwanese factory-second wind blazers as they take
their obligatory after-lunch walk around the compound. Billows of gas emissions
are within view, but no one questions the connection between these heavy metal
smelting plants and the hazardous air, water, and soil that are a result of
irresponsible corporate practice. From where else would the majority of the
town’s livelihood come if the mammoth foreign-managed industries that founded
this village were stifled?
As
the ground fully thaws in mid-May, our family plants several acres of potatoes,
an activity during which my brother pockets dozens of jumbo red worms for my
mom to discover when washing his pants. We spend several short summer months in
the foothills of the Altai Mountain Taiga Forest scavenging for mushrooms,
berries, and pine nuts. As children, we eagerly anticipate annual week-long
trips out on the prairie to take a turn herding neighborhood cattle of which a
half-dozen belonged to our family. A less enjoyable expedition marks the end of
summer; the laborious week of cutting and baling hay to transport back to the
village for winter feed is often hurried or truncated by violent thunderstorms.
Harvesting the potato crop and few other vegetables that my mom coaxes out of
the barren soil prepares our family to settle back at home for the beginning of
a new schoolyear in September and the winter that follows too soon after. We
contently gather our storybooks and crafts around the coal-fed woodstove,
awaiting the vibrant scent of orange peels, rich crunch of walnuts, and smooth
sweetness of honey cake that manifest the arrival of Christmas. But the
conclusion of one summer in particular does not afford us this comfort;
instead, we resettle into a new home across the Atlantic Ocean for an uncharted
experience during that winter and for all the seasons that follow.
My
five-year-old memory fails to recall the details that culminated in my family’s
move to the Shenandoah Valley to reunite with relatives, but I don’t suppose
anyone consulted me on the matter. Beyond learning to cope with being an
immigrant in grade school through scholastic excellence equal to or in excess
of my peers, I also matured precociously from the experience of being my
parents’ primary interpreter and co-navigator of healthcare, workforce, and
other systems. Optimistically rising to the challenges and opportunities of
immigrant life, I have developed a unique tenacity and tolerance for
wholehearted inquisition of the unfamiliar, for investing in the opportunity of
risk, and for embracing the potent wisdom of failure. While I could attempt to
extrapolate an imagined trajectory in the setting where I first began my life’s
journey, I’d rather celebrate the gift of those primitive legacies in the ways
that they continue to inform how I traverse a terrain not paved by familiar
culture or ancestral association. And I must admit, that early detour truly has
made all the difference!
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| Having remained in Iowa City for the holidays, I left town (to PA through Chicago) during the first weekend of the year to join the Music & Worship Leader's Retreat that I had attended for the past 4 years. |
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I visited a tranquil urban garden at the airport. An unplanned overnight stay at the O'hare airport offered me a worthwhile lesson...At a time when being other than Caucasian and with foreign accent is a liability in this country, I witnessed rich harmony and beauty in our diversity: I was served an evening meal by an Indian-American family, comfortably welcomed to occupy a cot with a pillow/blanket by an African-American, was watched over as I rested with other airport vagabonds by a vigilant Asian-American, and was greeted with a morning sandwich and Spanish salutations by a Latin-American. Sure, this airport seldom gets me through an on-time connection and its city has challenges...but if we can all be a bit more gentle and kind to one another, even inconveniences give way to a sense of unity, home, and shared responsibility for making our surroundings compatible with a good life for all.
|
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| Though delayed, I arrived to a snowy retreat center for the remaining day and a half of the program. I especially enjoyed joining in harmony with singers from diverse locations. |
As I’ve concluded one semester of my fellowship in Geriatric & Special Needs Dentistry and residency in Dental Public Health and begin a new semester, I am prompted to continue discerning the direction in which the current opportunity might propel me. Exploring the pursuit of a PhD rather than an MS, I find myself “revisiting the Wye” to question the dimensions of the inspiration that initially propelled me on this journey. I’ve surely learned to see my current and future opportunities “not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue” (Wadsworth). But I also see in the “wild eyes” of my future self that is yet ambitious, the persistent optimism “whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man, a motion and a spirit, that impels all thinking things…of all the mighty world of eye and ear, both what they half-create, and what they perceive…the anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, the guide, the guarding of my heart, and soul of all my moral being.” With a more mature but nonetheless potent foundation for my intentions, I intend to maintain that “cheerful faith that all which we behold is full of blessings,” allowing “the moon [to] shine on [me]…and the misty mountain winds [to] be free to blow against [me].” A newly encountered song celebrates this kind of commitment to whatever the future holds in the coming year, the next five years, and beyond:
Anywhere
(Passenger, 2016):
If
you get out on the ocean, if you sail out on the sea.
If
you get up in the mountains, if you go climbing on trees.
Oh
through every emotion, when you know that they don't care
Darling
that's when I'm with you. Oh, I'll go with you anywhere!
If
you get up in a jet plane, return in a submarine,
If
you get on to the next train to somewhere you've never been.
If
you want to ride in a fast car, fee the wind in your hair,
Darling
just look beside you, Oh I'll go with you anywhere!
Oh
and I will be with you when the darkest winter comes
Oh
and I will be with you to feel the California sun
Oh,
and I will be with you in the nighttime when it's through
Oh,
I'll go anywhere with you!
If
you get up in the hillside, if you ride out on the plains.
If
you go digging up dirt, if you go out dancing in the rain.
If
you go chasing in rainbows, just to find the gold hid there,
Darling
just look behind you, Oh, I'll go with you anywhere!
