On a typical day this fall, I will walk into my apartment at the end of a school day at around 3:30. Sweet deal, right? I'm usually carrying about three bags with me full of quizzes, homework, Expo dry-erase markers, an ipad, a coffee-holder...the list goes on. By 3:30 I have usually taught about 4 classes and seen about 115 students. I love it. I am usually so tired by the time I pass under my threshold that it takes only a few steps before I crash onto the couch, or switch immediately into yoga pants. Each evening, I try to commit at least a half an hour to writing and researching for my dissertation, and try to catch up on entering grades as best as I can before heading off to bed. At the end of each day my heart is so so full from being able to be a part of the lives of young people- as much as I give as a teacher/professor, I get even more back in the form of smiles, kind words, and the looks of transformation and empowerment in a student's eyes and face. As Meister Eckhart once wrote, "If the only prayer you ever say in your life is 'Thank You,' that will suffice." I hit my pillow each night both exhausted and thankful- I have found my telos. Then why do I always feel like it's not enough?
As is typical of someone in the 21st century, not a day goes by without my checking facebook, instagram, etc., not only to check out the latest gossip, but also to connect with friends. Most of my friends have either gotten married by now, are close to being married, and/or are starting to think about having kids. I find myself constantly surprised that I am at that age where these things are normal and expected- "Wait, wasn't that girl doing kegstands just a few years ago? Oh wait, I guess that was 6 years ago now." I also find myself consistently comparing myself and my life with those peers and dear friends, even though the course of my life has taken a decidedly different turn. I am single, living in the city, teaching high school and college, and writing a dissertation in a doctoral program. I teach, research, live and try to embody feminist theory, yet I find myself inadequate or failing when my own life does not follow in the sequential pattern of falling in love, getting married, buying a house and having children. I don't even want all of those things, at least not in the traditional sense...but why do I still feel like I missed something, or that my life is somehow "less"?
I have come to the conclusion that I need to look at my life right now for what it is: an alternative lifestyle. In my own way, I am taking on loves- children even- and forging a new path as a single woman. When I work on my dissertation, I am putting my passion, my love, my memories, my entire self into creating this new "thing," this new extension of myself. In a way, I am birthing something that is both an intimate part of me but also an extension of me, existing on its own. My students are, in an unconventional way, also a part of my family, as are my colleagues and friends. I look at my life right now not in terms of what I can leave behind for my biological children, but rather what I can leave behind for Catholic women in the Church. Is that not noble in its own right? While I shudder at the term "spiritual motherhood," coined by the late Pope John Paul II in his writings on the dignity of women, I must admit that I am taking on an alternate role as a woman in the Church, being a servant and role model for my students about what it might mean to be a lay, single woman of faith.
Still, even in these analogies, I am subconsciously referring to the "traditional" way that a woman should lead her life according to society and the Church as standard, and justifying my lifestyle up and against this standard. Even when I look at fellow PhD students, not only am I comparing myself to them in terms of scholarship and progress, but will also add something to the effect of "PLUS, she has a hot husband/boyfriend." Why do I do this? I never stop to think that maybe she or he thinks that I have some great things going on in this crazy little alternative lifestyle of mine.
I love the simple yet poignant quote: "Comparison is the Thief of Joy." I say it to myself like a mantra, because my own comparisons are stealing my joy, a little more each day. Joy is precious, and I have the right to bask in it, as a daughter of God. As a teacher and perpetual student, this quote can also mean, "Keep your eyes on your own page." I don't want my students comparing themselves to each other, or using another voice other than their own, so why do I not apply this advice to my own life?
ON
