Yesterday it really hit me.
I was writing a paper that is a summary of what I do, where I want to go with my career, and how I think this particular class will help me. I have written four such papers for this professor (because I’ve taken four courses from her) and each time, I’m as honest as I possibly can be. She’s not only my professor but she’s a colleague and I feel a special connection with her.
I’m writing along and I realize that I don’t know where I want to go. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. It all seems wonderful and scary and overwhelming at once.
And I realized that the more I know, the less I really know.
When I finished my undergraduate degree, I felt smarter than I do today. Maybe ignorance really is bliss.
I feel like I’m in concentric circles and beyond my circle is darkness that I don’t quite understand. And while I may reach for it, getting closer to the edge of my circle, the darkness is always the same distance from me…never quite attainable.
Do I want to work with technology and literacy and people with special needs? Or do I want to create better educational environments for all students? Or do I want to teach? Or do I want to be innovative and develop tools that will assist in learning?
I don’t know.
I’m confused. I feel a bit lost. I feel like I once knew what I wanted and now I know nothing at all.
A friend told me that this is “normal” (whatever that means) for grad students. That the more we learn, the less we feel like we know. He called it “a total perspective vortex kind of thing.”
That’s exactly how it feels.
I wonder if the pyramids of Sedona could help me with this vortex.