An Unlonely Number

Our greatest accomplishments require time alone.  If the young Einstein had been chatting with his buddies on that city trolley around a century ago, we still might not have the theory of relativity, and E=MC(squared) might be just another meaningless bit of formula that never attached itself to a concept. The Williams sisters have spent a lot of quality time with the ball machine, perfecting those killer shots. St. Augustine, Thoreau, Marx, and even the party boy of the 20th century, F. Scott Fitzgerald, used solitude to think, to dream, and to write ideas that shook the world.

If you're considering going back to school at whatever level, and you fear being cut off from your social life, bear in mind that in order to become the person you really are, you need to spend time with yourself.  That old cliche' about loving yourself is fine, but what real accomplishment requires is that you really know yourself so you can open your heart and your life. Then your true self can been seen in the world around you through your work, not just your voice.

So many people worry about being alone.  They fill their days and nights with movement and casual friends, labor and workmates, hobbies and trips to the gym, the beach, the hardware store, Acapulco, the sushi bar . . . And when they finally get home, they fill the air around them with their music, and the surround sound from the TV and the phone calls to more and more people as they try to fill every hour in the days to come.

Alternatively, why not turn off all the noise? Stop answering the cell phone for two days. No email for a whole weekend. Turn off the stereo and the iPod. Cancel a few social events and put the gardening and hot yoga aside for a while, and just see what you really think. Listen to yourself when you are thinking about something more important than your credit card balance, and get familiar with that voice.

That's the voice you'll hear a lot once you're back in class, because you'll be spending more time alone than you do now, studying, thinking, planning, and executing. Eventually in the educational process, each student discovers that solitude is both a treasure and a key that unlocks even more delights than those noisy people can ever imagine.

I can't believe I'm finally here

It finally happened last night, as I was driving home from another food service shift. It was that moment of bliss, when I realized that after all the planning, the relocating from my hometown, the uprooting of relationships, the expense, the homework, the tuition, the endless second-guessing of my means and motives, here I was:

• I was driving home to a lovely, quiet place almost built for an older scholar. Well, someone who wants to be a scholar.
• I had just spent 12 hours on the campus where I had wanted to be for about three years, attending classes, studying and learning.
• I had just punched out of a job that, while I still wonder if I can handle the physical challenges, makes me happy on the level of providing service to others.
• Despite the complete and total loss of my social life, for the most part I'm living the way I want to live.

What made this come to mind was the encounter I had yesterday with the very first person I've met on the SMU campus who obviously didn't want to be there. Sparing the details and identifying information, it was pretty obvious to me and the others around him that he'd rather be somewhere else doing something more important. He is morose, mopy and uninterested, a depressed and depressing contrast to everyone else I've met on campus. Commuter students come in from an hour or more away each day, and campus residents seem to be pretty happy to be around for the most part. The school must be doing something for them that doesn't reach this guy.

That last paragraph sounds remarkably chirpy, but SMU is different from the places I've worked in the real world. From CBS to Seattle-radio-stations-otherwise-unnamed, and from the UW to private non-profits, the norm has been that every organization has a good percentage of employees or beneficiaries who are looking for a better job, higher status or more money elsewhere. At least twice I've been among the group looking at the want ads on a daily basis as I worked as hard as I could during the day. That's why the atmosphere at SMU amazes me -- and why this sad little kid has me concerned for him.

As far as classes are concerned, I've noticed that every time I think I'm caught up, more reading needs to be done immediately. Of course, math and accounting majors keep finding more problems and philosophy majors find more syllogisms, so I hope I can get used to the workload by the end of the semester.

Meanwhile, this morning the sun is coming up and the crows are calling me out to see what's happening on the water. May you find your bliss moment today and tomorrow and ever after.

Oriented

The Class of 2013 has been convened and taught its first few lessons of college life. Parents have been oriented, fed barbecue and sent home, and depicted in skits as wanting to hover a little too much. The students who live on campus are settling in. As a commuter student, I could have elected to spend orientation weekend on the St. Martin's University campus, but I suspect the settling-in process probably is entailing some late hours.

The orientation guides, all upper classmen, are giving the new students a good taste of college life and making sure they have the contacts they need to be successful. This four day process is in huge contrast to my freshman year centuries ago at Big State U: my parents dropped me off at the dorm, we had a convocation for the several hundred freshmen and were given a handbook with a bunch of rules that no one ever read. Before you ask, yes, boomers could read in those days -- we often chose not to, though. We were having too much fun at the back of the crowd.

I think my father's contemporaries might have gotten restless if Big State had put on a farewell barbecue after a day-long parent orientation like St. Martins did. Boomer parents, though, really like these things. People love to watch Mad Men on TV, but it may not have been such a thrill to have those guys as parents.

Yesterday the students went out to clear a walking trail in Lacey, the city surrounding the campus, as part of the Saints in Service program. I stayed on campus and lined up some ongoing volunteer work for myself and did some studying: The Crucible is as challenging as I remember it.

Last night, as the orientation guides put on a skit about making choices regarding drugs, drinking, sex, study habits and getting along with roommates, I kept myself from giggling at first by trying to put myself in the younger students' shoes. During our group discussions, they keep mentioning how excited they are to be independent, on their own, meeting new people. They look a little nervous, too. Some of them are thousands of miles from home, and all of them are taking steps that will mark their entire lives. That gives me the shivers.

Dis-orientation

The first day of school is just around the corner, preceded by four days of orientation. As a transfer student (who last had a serious academic program in 1975), I will join the other new students at St. Martin's this evening for a barbecue with their parents. Then, according to the schedule, the parents leave at 6:00 and the orientation activities begin.

While some of the younger students will be anxious for their parents to take off so their new lives can begin, I envy them the support of their families. Right now, I feel like I am so totally alone in this project that I'm having some real crises of confidence. Everyone has been really supportive, but the anxieties are so overwhelming that I'd almost rather be having dental surgery. At least in that situation, I know what I'm supposed to do!

The truism that kept me going in China and Taiwan was, "Feel the fear and do it anyway." It may be a stupid piece of advice, but that's what I have to do.

On the bright side, I have a job on campus with the food service contractor, Bon Apetit. It will pay just enough to cover my gasoline bill and comes with a meal each shift. Training starts Monday, along with classes. Also, I've bought most of my books for this semester, and came in about $200 under what I had estimated. I'll make up the difference next semester.