So, remember when I wrote about Dread?
Yeah, we’re back there again.

I am getting ready to submit this damn proposal. It’s something I need and want to do – but it is such a challenging and vulnerable process.

Yes, I said vulnerable.
I have drunk the Kool Aid, and yes, I am a Brene Brown devotee.

I know I need to be vulnerable with this, but it is so hard sometimes, putting myself out there for criticism, time and time again. I know that it makes me stronger, it makes my science better, and it (usually) turns out better than anticipated.

But oh, it is still so hard. I live in fear that I will send something out for review and that the feedback I receive will boil down to “This is a hot mess” or, “Why on earth did you think that you could do this and succeed?”

Sigh.

It’s hard. It’s tiring. And it really does a number on your self-esteem and self-worth, if you let it.

So I am trying to remind myself that with vulnerability comes growth. And growth and change are absolutely vital to my success as a scholar.

Here’s hoping that the proposal is not viewed as a hot mess. I’ll just go for constructive feedback at this point.

What if you closed your eyes?
Would the world fall
apart without you?
Or would your mind
become the open sky
flock of thoughts
flying across the sunrise
as you just watched and smiled.
~ From “Dear You”, by Kaveri Patel

I managed to unearth the above verse (and the entire poem) when searching for poems about stillness to share with my class last week. I never did share it – it was quite the discussion – but I love this poem, and it turns out that I love this poet. She’s a poet and healer – a medical doctor who writes poetry and leads compassion retreats. What a wonderful combination, and one that speaks to me as a scientist and health care provider. 

These next few weeks are going to be insane, on the personal and professional fronts. I have a grant due in 2 weeks. I’m in the middle of a long-running argument with my spouse. I have multiple guest lectures. 

But I also know that the world will not fall apart without me. It will get done. I don’t have to do it all at once. And even more important, I need to remember to close my eyes periodically, or nothing will get done. Rest and disconnection are just as important to my productivity and mental health as putting in the work. Yes, I’m going to work hard. Yes, it will likely suck in multiple ways. But I’ll get through. As long as I remember to close my eyes.