Thursday, April 30, 2009

Saved by Split-Treadmill Gait

I received an email informing me that I didn't get a travel grant. No trip to France for me. They even included the reason: not enough publications... I am not "proven" as a scientist.

My future hinges on my ability to prove myself. That is, the rest of my life is going to be grant applications and paper writing, trying to prove that I belong in academia. This morning started a dangerous spiral of certainty that I am not worthy, and that I am boned.

I'll spare you the details of my darker thoughts. Suffice it to say, they ranged from a desperately short list of companies that might hire me to a pathetic vision of Dr. Don the Burger Flipper.

You know me, though. My bad moods' lifespans are measured in hours, if not minutes. While ambling aimlessly through the student center, I came up with a post doc project for one of my potential labs, about which I've been ruminating for over a month... and it was a fantastic concept, if I may say so. Suddenly, the ideas came furiously, a brainstorm in the most literal sense, and my pen couldn't keep up. It seems that, despite a few doldrums of self-doubt, I may have a future in this science thing after all!

This afternoon, I went for a head-clearing ride in the Watchungs, alone with my thoughts. The first heavy raindrops, only hinting at whatever storm may come tonight, fell on the petals of suburban gardens and flowering trees. As the breeze swirled between the split levels, the humid air thickened with a floral perfume, a pleasantness that filled my nostrils. I was overcome with the sensation, rich and complete, and I smiled.

Life is good, baby.

2 comments:

ntw said...

Rejection is, unfortunately, a regular part of the profession. I think we all struggle with the rejection letter, or more often these days, the rejection e-mail.

It sounds like you bounced back quickly and inspiredly (I don't think that's a word), and I think that's the valuable piece in getting rejected. I think you end up learning and preparing for the career you've chosen by being told no repeatedly more than if you rarely face rejection.

This is all to say, don't let the bastards grind you down.

Ben said...

Illegitimi non carborundum!

ntw, ftw