Hey everyone -
It's been over three weeks since my last post. For the loyal readers, of which there are a handful, I apologize. Things have been crazy here; I will try and paint a picture for you...
Some of my Le Moyne crowd, my sharkies, came to visit for Independence Day weekend, or, the more important event, Adrienne's birthday. It was great to see some familiar faces and we all laughed a lot that weekend.
I went to the beach last weekend, saw the sand castle festival, ate REAL chinese food in Chinatown and walked the Freedom Trail.
I have been working, working, working.
I found a new church, thanks to Jay, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.
Okay, so that's not a very good picture. But things have been crazy. Just take my word for it.
The real meat of my entry is coming. Ready?
I've been at Harvard for seven whole weeks now. Can you believe it? And maybe I am completely burnt out in ways I can't even imagine, but not once since I have been here have I really been excited about science. We have some interesting and profound results, and that's great. It just is not enough for me.
I have been going back and forth here, wondering if I am sort of shirking all of this because I am not confident in my ability to practice science, or if I just want to do something more meaningful, or in what molar ratio these two things play a role. (Cue laughing chemists.)
I have been thinking about all of the people who say I have a bright future, and wondering what they see when they picture it, and if it matches up with what I hope for myself.
I have been looking at applications for volunteer programs and graduate schools, and wondering where to go with it all.
All the while, I have this in the back of my head. It's another Rilke quote from his "Letters to a Young Poet."
"You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must", then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse...But after this descent into yourself and into your solitude, perhaps you will have to renounce becoming a poet (if, as I have said, one feels one could live without writing, then one shouldn't write at all). Nevertheless, even then, this self searching that I ask of you will not have been for nothing. Your life will still find its own paths from there, and that they may be good, rich, and wide is what I wish for you, more than I can say."
What might shock you, though it is much less shocking to me is this: I feel that I could live without science.
My life will still find paths from here. Where they will go, I have no idea. I'm trying to get used to not knowing. It's rather difficult for me, who's always had a plan for forever.
It's funny, the longer I am here, the less I want to go to graduate school. Everything has been set up for me to succeed, and that's happening, more or less, but it's not enough. As Sugarland sang, "There's gotta be something more, gotta be more than this..."
Now, don't think that a) I am rushing into any rash decisions or b) I am losing my mind. These sorts of things are ones that can't be decided about while you're in them. So I will continue to ponder, in a "I am trying really hard not to stress out about this, but I still have no idea what I am going to be heading to a year from now" kind of way.
And, if you have any thoughts, please send them my way. I would love to hear them!
Currently reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. 42 is the answer to the universe. Put that on your chem test!
Listening to: "Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls. "I woke up with a headache like my head against the board, twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before, and I'd went in seeking clarity..."
- Rachel
I went to the beach last weekend, saw the sand castle festival, ate REAL chinese food in Chinatown and walked the Freedom Trail.
I have been working, working, working.
I found a new church, thanks to Jay, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.
Okay, so that's not a very good picture. But things have been crazy. Just take my word for it.
The real meat of my entry is coming. Ready?
I've been at Harvard for seven whole weeks now. Can you believe it? And maybe I am completely burnt out in ways I can't even imagine, but not once since I have been here have I really been excited about science. We have some interesting and profound results, and that's great. It just is not enough for me.
I have been going back and forth here, wondering if I am sort of shirking all of this because I am not confident in my ability to practice science, or if I just want to do something more meaningful, or in what molar ratio these two things play a role. (Cue laughing chemists.)
I have been thinking about all of the people who say I have a bright future, and wondering what they see when they picture it, and if it matches up with what I hope for myself.
I have been looking at applications for volunteer programs and graduate schools, and wondering where to go with it all.
All the while, I have this in the back of my head. It's another Rilke quote from his "Letters to a Young Poet."
"You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must", then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse...But after this descent into yourself and into your solitude, perhaps you will have to renounce becoming a poet (if, as I have said, one feels one could live without writing, then one shouldn't write at all). Nevertheless, even then, this self searching that I ask of you will not have been for nothing. Your life will still find its own paths from there, and that they may be good, rich, and wide is what I wish for you, more than I can say."
What might shock you, though it is much less shocking to me is this: I feel that I could live without science.
My life will still find paths from here. Where they will go, I have no idea. I'm trying to get used to not knowing. It's rather difficult for me, who's always had a plan for forever.
It's funny, the longer I am here, the less I want to go to graduate school. Everything has been set up for me to succeed, and that's happening, more or less, but it's not enough. As Sugarland sang, "There's gotta be something more, gotta be more than this..."
Now, don't think that a) I am rushing into any rash decisions or b) I am losing my mind. These sorts of things are ones that can't be decided about while you're in them. So I will continue to ponder, in a "I am trying really hard not to stress out about this, but I still have no idea what I am going to be heading to a year from now" kind of way.
And, if you have any thoughts, please send them my way. I would love to hear them!
Currently reading: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. 42 is the answer to the universe. Put that on your chem test!
Listening to: "Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls. "I woke up with a headache like my head against the board, twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before, and I'd went in seeking clarity..."
- Rachel
