A little advising

I saw my academic advisor today to get back my graduate portfolio and to take the first step toward developing an independent study for some education that my program doesn't offer. At the same time, I had a brief personal conversation with her. The outcome of all three things was immensely helpful.

On the matter of my portfolio, no problems to report. Rather, I was touched by a sweet comment my advisor wrote on a post note: "It is always an honor and joy to read anything you write about your experiences. Thanks for your thought and reflection on these topics." She's a kind woman.

She also told me she found my writing entertaining and funny. Now, before you go thinking I'm getting all high-and-mighty on myself and my writing capabilities, allow me to share with you an *example* of what she found funny about my portfolio.

In a section in which I was asked to describe the my intended format for maintaining files of professional activities, I wrote: Because I do not like to keep any more paper files than I need to, I will maintain whatever non-critical evidence of the above professional activites....

It goes on from there, but apparently, that was the funny part. My adviser told me, sweetly, "I just really like the way you put things." I was touched and bemused at the same time.

My first meeting with this woman was not a pleasant one for me, but in *every* subsequent encounter with her (and she was my professor in a class for a term), she has won me over again and again and again. There is a curious peacefulness to her nature, some way in which she embodies both a deep thoughtfulness and an ageless enthusiam.

For the first time with anyone, I spelled out for her a fairly explicit independent study on the use of narrative in the dying process. I also talked to her about my interest in synthesizing some of my learning on Queer issues in counseling. The result of this discussion was the decision that I could do two independent studies, one on each topic.

This pleases me to no end. It's my way of doing the "research" I'm really interested in doing without having to go through the scientific rigor of a thesis. I can write a philosophical paper without bothering with math, and my adviser thought I might end up with publishable piece on the first topic. Twiddle-dee me!

(I keep forgetting that there's the option of supplementing my income as a bargain-basement therapist by writing for professional journals, expecially the more "readable" ones.)

Anyway, our conversation about this opened the door asking my adviser if she had ever gone through a big "identity shift." To that question, she responded with one of her own: "You mean besides coming out?"

Sometimes the most compelling things we say are the least intentional. This question she asked in reply reminds me how powerful metaphor is. It also serves me as a beutiful example of how *everything* we hear someone else say is run through a complex web of filters, the meaning of the speaker and the understanding of the hearer often having NOTHING to do with each other.

Although I spoke briefly to my adviser about what I *did* mean, the most useful part of the conversation was that first question she asked.

"Coming out" means so many different things to people, but I understood her question in light of what a monumental personal drama it can be.

And a few hours later, when I thought of it again, I suddenly took an added meaning from the question. Whether she meant to say it or not, I took from her question -- "You mean besides coming out?" -- a reminder that I have already made it through a massive identity shift before. Made it through successfully, at that.

Something which was once novel and disturbing to me -- a source of deep self-hatred, actually -- is now a well-integrated part of my identity. I get upset about things related to my sexuality sometimes, but it's usually about being discriminated against (and, to a lesser degree, the dearth of single lesbians in my age group, mine being the lesbian nesting age that is increasingly involving a gayby). Far from hating this aspect of my identity, I would not give it up. I am pleased to be woman-loving identified. *heh*

This other change I'm experiencing in the most maddening fits and starts is far less threatening. In fact, my personal opinion about it right now is that it's a very, very good thing. But I'm lost in it. I don't know what this change is supposed to look like. I have no idea how I will turn out in the end.

Back when I was coming out, I had an idea. It was a *miserable* idea, but at least it was an idea. Bad as I thought it would be when I arrived, having a destination seemed helpful. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my expectations fell far short. Things have turned out much better than I thought they would. (Even if this personal situation of mine leaves a little to be desired right now.)

This time around, the destination is totally unknown. I am aware of being on a sigificant journey, but I don't know where I'm going. (Perhaps I should have asked my adviser for some advice on this...)

I'm at a point where intentionality seems to matter more than it ever has before in my life, but I don't know what I want. So I am, in the meantime, churning water as the troublesome character described in the previous blog entry.

What an amazing, weird and difficult place to be.