Finding Direction

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide where to go. 

~Dr. Seuss~ 

Semester Half

I am halfway through the new semester… AUGH!!! I am now a second year student in the PhD programme… AUGH!!! This really lends credence to the saying that time waits for no man.

There is that period in every journey where you are not quite sure where you are going but you are putting one foot blindly in front of the other hoping that you end up at the right destination. I thought that would be during my first year of the programme and that I would start stepping into some light in the second year , or at least be a little more sure of where I am going on this journey. JOKES!!! LOL!!! Apparently I will get to the end of the journey and still not be entirely sure where I was headed.

I have realised though that the PhD is just the means to an end, and further, it is a learning experience. Through this experience I am to gather enough confidence and some experience so that I can move forward with becoming a researcher, a lecturer, and an academic writer. In addition, I am gaining experience with how to chat with other academics to build a network. Does anyone remember a time when building a network wasn’t important in every profession?

So… the progress report:

I have “completed” the literature review. If you think back (way back), I was supposed to be more sure now about what my research questions are and what my focus will be. Well I am more confident about the direction, and goodness knows I am all read up. I am almost read out in fact, but am I more sure? Feeling more focused? Do I think that the steps are falling into place? Not quite, but I do feel a little more confident, so I still think I am headed in the right direction.

Semester End

In what can only be termed a turnaround, I have gone from having no direction, or a rather uncertain direction to having several options for where I am headed. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry; actually I lie! I know exactly what to do…I need to think and narrow those several directions down to a few which are in some way connected and form a cohesive plan forward. I am excited!!! There is no denying that. I may be hiding it well from those around me but I am excited (HAHA… Tara, are you good at hiding anything?). I am excited about what I am out to discover (a la Scuttle…let’s see which of you gets that reference). Ok, enough of the riddles.

My supervisor and I had decided that in addition to my literature, it would be beneficial for me to talk to a few people in the field to put out feelers in a sense. Since that decision, I have conducted two exploratory interviews and we have since had a chat. That discussion largely entailed deciding where I could go with my research based on what both the literature and the practitioners are telling me. This step, for me, is incredible, enlightening and hopefully one in the right direction. It makes me feel less lost and more like I made the right decision to pursue this qualification.

We all learn in a variety of ways: some learn through listening, others through seeing, some through doing and many with some combination of these three. I hope I got that right or the person who taught it to me will not be amused. I feel like this a learning through doing and seeing exercise, with a whole lot of listening thrown in. I am not only learning how to be a researcher by pursuing this PhD; I am learning the steps for developing a research project and writing it up (doing). But this is not a process I am going through alone because of a number of conversations (listening) with not only my supervisor but my colleagues, other lecturers within my department and those who visit for useful seminars. I am learning from their expertise and experiences. And goodness knows I am certainly getting in a whole of reading and observing (seeing) as I go along... some days I never want to see another academic journal.

However, I think I am learning a lot more about myself in the process. I am sure that is a good thing; reflection and reflexivity are very important to growth and development. Although, I am sure, some days I really wish I didn’t have the alone time to do it, but that is another blog.

There is a review coming up in January… look forward to the blog after that. That will let you know if I really have found my direction or if I need to head right back to the drawing board.   

Is being guarded so wrong?

Even though you may want to move forward in life, you may have one foot on the brakes. In order to be free, we must learn how to let go. Release the hurt. Release the fear. Refuse to entertain your old pain. The energy it takes to hang onto the past is holding you back from a new life.  

~Mary Manin Morrisey~

There are some days that I am quite sure that I give too much, open up my heart too easily and let people mean a lot to me entirely too quickly. Then there are others when I say to myself if you don’t give a little and have a little faith you will never experience the joys of friendship, love, companionship or affection. More and more often now though I wonder if the pain of being let down by the people you give a little to isn’t a lot more impactful that the joys.

I love people. I love watching them, observing their interactions; I love laughing with them, chatting with them, teaching them and just being quiet with them. I think that it is clear that I enjoy these activities more and more with people that mean something to me.  But does that love make me too vulnerable? What comes to mind as I have this debate with myself is that cartoon where the girl keeps her heart in a box to protect herself. How many times has that cartoon passed your newsfeed and you thought, I know how she feels, I know why she did it and I admire the courage she has to open the box and try again.

But is it really courage? Or is it just wishful thinking? Is being guarded with your heart and your emotions so wrong? It gets so frustrating to make the decision to be more open, give someone that little bit more of your time and your heart and then they let you down. It is not only frustrating, it hurts! It makes you lose faith in yourself and what you have to offer in a relationship or to anyone that you want to value you. I can hear all the women who love me yelling at me and saying “Tara, honey, how many times do we have to say it is not your fault; you did your best and you cannot always blame yourself”. I agree with them in my mind, I do, I really do … but my heart and my spirit wonders; is it so obvious that there is something wrong with me? Don’t I have enough? Am I not enough? Is there something else I could have done? Should I just not bother because it will never work out how I want it to anyway?

Sigh … I don’t know if there is a lot more that I can say here … maybe what I am looking for is more of a conversation … what do you think? Is being guarded so wrong?

Truth is everybody is going to hurt you: you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for 

Bob Marley

you can find the complete comic I have referred to here: http://www.spiritscienceandmetaphysics.com/this-comic-about-love-will-touch-your-heart/

A Fog of Euphoria

Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything. 

~Plato~ 

There are so few words that can describe how I felt after watching Wicked at the Edinburgh Playhouse. Why do we always say that? There are sooo many words I can use to express and describe how I felt before, during and after watching Wicked at the Edinburgh Playhouse; the problem is I am not sure that all of those words will be able to convey exactly how I felt.

In earlier blogs I talked about how much music means to me, but I do not think I talked about when I discovered Andrew Lloyd Webber and musical theatre pieces. My first exposure to this music was when I started vocal training in Barbados. I felt like something wild and exciting had been opened up to me. Later, a friend at school (I haven’t forgotten Janelle) lent me a CD which I never returned (shame). I couldn’t return it because I listened to it at home, and in mummy’s car and everywhere else I could and I think I hurt it … it never played the same after the overuse. In simple terms I fell in love. My brother was not amused, but for me it was a natural extension from my staple movie diet of Disney movies, Annie, The Wizard of Oz and The Sound of Music. Yet again, I digress. Although, I think what I wanted to say was that at home there were so few opportunities to experience this type of thing.

I remember when Broadway to Barbados first came to the Frank Collymore Hall, Barbados … I wanted to go so badly I could taste it. My mother gifted me the ticket if I remember correctly and I was on cloud nine for days after the show. I felt so fortunate, blessed and wonderful to be able to have seen it. Now this show is not a full production; on the contrary, various ex-cast members perform some of the signature pieces of the Broadway shows that they have done. If I felt this way about going to that can you even imagine how I felt to be gifted a ticket to Wicked and be walking into the Edinburgh Playhouse? I was on cloud nine before I took my seat; I felt grateful, privileged and full of anticipation.

From note one, I was blown away; at the end of the first half I was enthralled, in awe of the orchestra, singing, dancing, talent, costumes, staging, dragon :)  and by the end of the show I was simply overwhelmed. If you had to ask me to do anything for the next few hours I would have gladly done it for you, I was in what could be termed a ‘fog of euphoria’. The rack of baby back ribs afterwards was just icing on the cake (trust me, the only thing that tops an amazing experience is great food after or during that experience). I am too inexperienced to give you a critical review of the show. I also do not want to give away the plot to anyone who has not had the opportunity to see it. But that experience was for me, emotional, mind-blowing, overwhelming and humbling, in short, a dream come true. 

I know what I want to write ... BUT!!!

My writing process isn't a very organized thing~Chuck Palahniuck~

 There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewrite and bleed 

~Ernest Hemingway~

I cannot count the number of times I have sat in front of this computer's keyboard, with a number of academic papers scattered next to me, in folders, across the desk and on the floor with various notes in the margins; papers attached with further notes and a lot of thoughts swimming around in my mind and said … I know what I want to say BUT … ARGH!!!!

But wait Tara … Haven’t you done everything? Laid out a structure for the chapter, done all the reading, know what the major points are, who said them, who reiterated them, who disagreed with them, and what it is that needs to be said, what the story of your chapter is? So why in goodness name is nothing moving from your mind to the damn screen? I hate staring at a screen with no words on it… JUST WRITE!!! How many times have I heard that? … come on Tara you know what  you want… you KNOW IT … you have READ IT… you know your perspective, that is in your notes … SO WRITE THE DAMN THING!!! ARGH!!!! What’s the holdup … honestly?

There are some days that knowing the deadline you are working towards and the number of words you need to write per day to meet that deadline just do not help when nothing moves from mind to paper. This being a prime example, rather than writing my chapter, I had to take a few moments out to just get all of this negative energy and stuff that is stopping me … out!! But what exactly is it? I feel like I am fighting through a mire of my own making… It is just fear, I know that; I do not want to acknowledge it, but the overwhelming fear of not meeting the deadline, not writing what is important and missing something significant or just being substandard can be immobilizing. Sometimes even knowing what routine works for me and applying and/or just trying something different to see if that sparks anything are just not enough to get past the fear.

Well here I go again … off to the literature review (a couple thousand words yuh know) that scares the living daylights out of me. Let’s see if something that makes sense comes out this time. 

P.S... I don't drink coffee but everything else about this comic is pretty accurate. Yes I know ... how is it that I don't drink coffee?

A different point of view ... 11th July 2014

Foreword: I figured it was time you heard a different perspective. So ... today's guest blogger is Abigail, a wonderful young woman who I met through the Cavite Chorale (The UWI - Cave Hill Campus choral group) in Barbados who recently completed her MSc. Marketing Management and Strategy at the Plymouth University who I asked to give her perspective on studying in the UK. 

"FERNWEH" (n.) An ache for distant places; the craving for travel

11th July, 2014. That was the day. After immense contemplation and deliberation, I had finally decided. That was the day I would pick up my life to begin my adventure – my year-long European journey before heading back to Barbados. You see, I absolutely LOVE England and I was willing to do whatever it took to postpone my return to Barbados. I had convinced myself that the more I postponed my departure from England, the easier the trek home would be, the less I would miss England, the faster I would re-adjust to my not-so-missed island lifestyle. Most of all, I truly believed that in the time that I waited (lagged and delayed) I would receive a clear sign as to what my future had in store for me.

Apparently, international students usually have a love-hate relationship with England. Mine though, was a love-love-more-love relationship from the very start! Within weeks of applying to Plymouth University, I was accepted for my programme. I was awarded a part scholarship from the University towards my tuition fees. I was afforded the opportunity to work with the University's accommodation team and thus earned myself free accommodation and monthly pay. Thus, I required and was quickly able to secure minimal funding for the rest of my trip within a few weeks of my acceptance. Just like that - I had it in the bag.

Plymouth is about a 5 hour drive away from London - which was the only bummer. However, it truly is a self-sufficient little city, and I rarely ever needed to make the trek to London. I really liked my programme; my flat was beyond decent and my flatmates were God sent. I didn't have many friends, but a solid few were all I needed. It was cold and rainy most days (cold and slightly sunny on others) but I adjusted quickly, grabbing the opportunity to embrace as many fancy coats and knee high boots as I could lay my hands on. This cold, grey country sucked me in and seduced me all at once.

I often indulged in long walks along the waterfront, and I stared at the gorgeous old buildings for hours. Late night movies and a bottle of wine with my flatmates were a monthly must. All-you-can-eat Chinese buffets were sinfully delicious and ridiculously affordable, not to mention the corner kebab shops especially when I had the midnight munchies. Old castles, theatre shows, the malls, the sales…the sales … the sales! The pubs (OMG ... the pubs!!), live music, summer barbeques, restaurants, clubs, parties, pre-drink before the parties…and more parties. UGH… I did not want to leave!

It was 11th July, and I waited for my flight alone at the airport. I just had to accept that I had travelled to England on a mission which I had accomplished to the best of my ability. It was time to return home. "At least you'll have the beach…", I thought to myself, wiping away the last of my tears. I just had to believe there was something bigger and better in store for me… and truly, there was. Within the first week of my return to Barbados, I was interviewed by one of the largest distribution firms on the island and shortly after was hired as a Brand Manager for a major account. A little intimidating, I'll admit, but more than enough Band-Aid for my British blues!

I miss the cold days. I've never been happier or felt more liberated than on days that I walked home by myself. Nowhere to be, no one to answer to, just me walking home alone. A chunk of my heart will forever remain in England, but I think that's a fair price to pay for that 'once in a lifetime' kinda experience. 

A PhD… Seriously …Whose idea was this anyway?

If we knew what it was we were doing, it would not be research would it?

~Albert Einstien~

It still amazes me how exhausted I am after a meeting with my supervisor.  At the end of one of these meetings, even if they were not to go over my writing, I feel like a deflated balloon. I wonder sometimes if it is only because I work myself up into a good little lather before the meeting actually happens. No matter how much preparation I put in, or how much Soca I listen to before to relax, or the number of attempts I make to get a good night’s sleep, I still end up in the office before 8 looking over one more thing, a little nervous as I walk through the door (with numerous papers and sometime a diagram or two) and I most likely leave with a tension headache.

Now please don’t get it in your head that my supervisor is a bad sort; he is a kind, knowledgeable person and offers a sympathetic even empathetic ear always… BUT!!! I want to feel more sure when I step in and out of his office. Since the change in my topic (even before that but since then it is so much worse) I have felt like I am floundering. The proposal I wrote was so clear, and it was so well-defined to me then: what I wanted to examine, what questions I wanted to answer and there was even some clarity on the methods I would use to answer those questions. I was comfortable with the literature and had a clear structure in my mind that would lead me where I was going. Now with this new topic, I am not as familiar with the literature and just not as sure where I am going. I have a vague plan but I will not be more certain, confident or comfortable (look at that 3Cs) until I am more familiar with the literature, know what has already been done and where my work will fit into the larger scheme of things. There are some days that that task seems so overwhelming and those days seem to culminate or begin with that meeting with my supervisor.

Although I always leave with a clearer direction and another few questions answered, I also feel an overwhelming urge to curl up in the foetal position or just lie down and relax… I am not telling the full truth; I leave with an overwhelming urge to have chips with lots of ketchup and salt, good chicken wings or a well prepared steak and a very yummy dessert (tiramisu or chocolate cake top that list) and then curl up in the foetal position or lie down. So now that I am trying hard not to overindulge and the deadlines I have set for myself are right around the corner I need to roll out of this post meeting misery a little faster.

I have heard and I believe that at the end of the literature review, I will be in a much better position. I will be more sure (please note not absolutely certain) of what my new research questions are, and with those, hopefully, a lot more will fall into place like my new research methods, the types of companies that fit my research criteria and the best way to tackle the next chapter.

A PhD… Seriously …Whose idea was this anyway?

Difficult Questions...

Your writing voice is the deepest possible reflection of who you are. The job of your voice is not to seduce or flatter or make well-shaped sentences. In your voice, your readers should be able to hear the contents of your mind, your heart, your soul.

~Meg Rosoff~

Thanks to Ian for asking these questions on Facebook some time ago … I have no idea where they came from but they did seem to spark a lot of thought for me. So I am going to share those thoughts with you.

The questions:

If your younger self had to see you today, what would they see? Exactly who you wanted to be, someone different who had to adapt...maybe the exact person you despised? Would you be happy with whom you became?

The Answer? My thoughts? Sigh …

OMG!!! Younger me had so much to learn … and life seemed so much simpler the younger I was. I have often said that I would love to go back to those days - maybe the age of 8 - where I never had to worry about how I would pay the bills, wasn’t yet too concerned about my common entrance examination (which dictates what secondary school you attend in the Caribbean school system and is completed at 11), hadn’t started puberty and thought that life was easy. I vaguely remember a stage where my greatest aspiration was to have at least 11 kids and be a good mommy. HAHAHA!!! Boy has that changed! I remember another age where I wanted to be an accountant, largely because it was all I was good at in school and it came so easily to me and my mommy was an accountant. I remember the age where I was terrified to stand up in Sunday School and sing or say anything. I remember when I first got the balls to say what I wanted to do with my hair (you know how big a deal that is ladies); I remember the age where I was learning to drive and going out with friends who had not first met my parents. What would that girl at any of those ages think of me now?

God Tara … you are OLD!!! LOL… being anywhere near thirty was ancient to any of those girls and having achieved what I have and had the experiences I did, I am glad; no, glad is not the right word, because there are some experiences you never want people to have but without those experiences I wouldn’t be the woman that I am now. I wouldn’t be looking forward to new experiences, love to travel and experience new cultures and meet new people; I certainly would not have the balls to up and leave home and pursue a PhD; I wouldn’t be the woman I am. But am I what I wanted to be?

Damn it! I am happy with who I am now. It has taken a long time to get here. I am still not and doubt I will ever be perfect and goodness knows I have a lot more to learn, but I am looking forward to doing it. I am some of the things I didn’t like when I was younger, but I have grown to realise that some things are necessary, like being there for people who mean a lot to you and that there is no easy way to do some things like end a relationship or discipline someone you love. Nothing in life is as easy or as simple as you thought when you were younger but then some things are.

Life is and my feelings about it and who I am are a kaleidoscope of conflicting, clashing and beautiful colours, emotions, memories, images, music, people, sounds…

Tara now, is happy with whom she is becoming … and Tara then, through her very simple and small lens, may not be totally happy but I forgive her for that. 

Back to the Grind

Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it - memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey. 

~Tad Williams~

I was more scared to come back to Glasgow this time... isn’t that weird? Last time I didn’t know where I was going to live, if I had enough money, wasn’t quite sure where anything was in relation to where I would settle or how I would eat… but it was an adventure. I was anxious but not as scared as I was when I recently came back. This time I do know where I am living, I do know where everything is and I have a kind of routine that should comfort me coming back…then why was I so scared?

I guess I should have started with the fact that I went home to Barbados for a LONG while and now I am back in Glasgow and my mind is again filled with ALL the work that I have to do to complete this PhD programme. I feel like I was on vacation for only three weeks though, as I spent the first three weeks of my return; working, teaching, preparing for my annual review via Skype (let us not even talk about that this toss), preparing my examination and being caught up in UWI. But boy did I pack in some action in those three weeks that I was mentally on break!!! AHHHH!!!!

I went to Pink Star with the girls (no livers for me though), Cooler Vibes with my crew (put yah hands on your knees and push it back), Scrawl up (twice) with both the girls and the crew and made new friends (destroyed my knee), Champers with the crew (had to wear my nice dress and tall shoes at least once). I visited Farley Hill (it never feels like I was home unless I do), Folkestone Marine & Heritage Park (they fixed the fence), Miami Beach (had lemonade at Mr. Delicious’ Snack Bar), Oistins (I had excellent fish at Fred’s Bar but I never got my fried pork chop), Carib Beach Bar (which closed while I was there; excellent calamari!!… sigh…). I didn’t make it to Bathsheba or a number of other places that I normally would have though.

I enjoyed the heat, the rain, the vibes, the music, the company, the sea breeze, the sea, the beaches, the food… I enjoyed being home. I think that is why I felt like crying on my way back. I wasn’t going to go to Cheffete Warrens (to eat what Tara?) and bump into several people I know and have nice catch up conversations. I wasn’t going to be able to pick up my beach chair and set it up at Folkestone and lie under a tree and read. I wasn’t going to be able to pick up my goddaughter and take her out to the park to colour in the sun or have a little picnic. Nah! Those days were over.

I was headed back to days of reading academic articles and trying to make enough sense of them that I could write my literature review. Honestly, I think I needed the break, I think I feel more ready and certainly more determined to do well… BUT!!! I am going to miss home.

Travel does NOT love me...

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired 

~ Fannie Lou Hamer ~

Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all people cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try to understand each other, we may even become friends. 

~ Maya Angelou ~

Now back to why traveling doesn’t love me. First, I really do not have fond memories of flying. It has gotten better with time, but I was the child on the flights with the ear problem.  So all my trips start with a little routine— purchase gum (I am really not a gum fan), try not to get any water stuck in my ears and a lot of prayer and hopes that I am near the front of the plane because the further back I go the worse it is. This routine used to involve exhausting myself before the flight so that I could sleep the entire time, but that has slowly changed…I too love my sleep. Sigh…Travel does not love me.

Now, on top of the ear thing, I seem to be the person who no matter how hard she tries, ends up with the stomach ailment. That one fool who spends at least one night becoming intimate with a foreign toilet…Stupse!!! What’s worse, for the first time in a little while I managed to leave my ‘home’ country without any medication, no Paracetemols, no Pepto Bismol, no vitamins, nothing!!! So here I was, again, but with no medication whatsoever… Sigh. Despite this set back I was intent on making sure that I did not miss any of the sightseeing or ruin any plans. I was not coming all this way, managing the flight (successfully I might add, well, with minimal ear issues) and not seeing what I had planned to see, upset stomach or no upset stomach. So even if it meant adult pampers I was going to see this through. Travel and I really don’t agree.

Not being able to use yeast as some fungus makes life difficult on a normal day… no pizza, no bread, no mushrooms, and no to some cheeses. I however draw the line at the cheese; it’s bad enough that I walk past bakeries and pizzerias where the smell makes me want to float in on it like a cartoon character, but you can’t take my cheese away from me… well, not yet. But imagine being in a country where almost every meal involves bread and the locals say to you “If you don’t eat bread you will never be full.” It was torturous trying to find anything to eat sometimes especially when the special tummy usually dictates bread, biscuits or bland foods and sprite or ginger tea to settle your stomach.

Bland foods certainly do not exist in the vocabulary of the Turkish, or so it seemed to me. Everything is tasty, spicy and rich in vegetables and never, I mean NEVER have I seen so many tomatoes consumed in my life, so bland was largely out. Bread was already out, so here I am on a great trip, enjoying great sights and nibbling constantly on pretzel sticks…STUPSE!!!!  Ginger tea…what’s that? In a country where tea is a staple, you have it at the end of every meal, in between meals and it is constantly offered to you by everyone, you would think that ginger tea wouldn’t be that hard to come by; but largely, the Turkish enjoy good Turkish and Arabic teas and ginger tea I never saw. You know when you ask someone a question and they give you that huh look? That is what I got when I asked about ginger tea, so I was left with Sprite or clear soda (I don’t like soda). Sigh… Pretzel sticks & Sprite… how frigging delightful…I love to travel honestly, but travel really really does NOT love me.  

A Well Deserved Break

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.

~ Mark Twain ~

Before the madness that is summer school at UWI and just after the review of that first chapter, I took a little break in Turkey.  Being on this side of the world makes it so much easier to visit all of the places that you hear about and sometimes can only sit and dream about visiting when you live on a tight budget. And although my primary objective is that of this PhD, I LOVE to travel. But let’s face it, traveling does not love me (more on that later).

Now I know what some of you are thinking, Turkey? Of all the places to visit Tara; why Turkey?  Honestly it wasn’t on my original list; my original list had on all the expected places (the ones you always hear about) France, Italy, Spain, Switzerland etc. … but my list is also flexible, and not based on enough research. So when offered the opportunity to visit Turkey, I said yes. From day two of my trip, I never regretted my decision – and please note day 1 is not included only because it was such a long travel day, with flying and then being on the road for about 7 hours.

Day 2, however, was much more relaxed and different. It was the day I spent in the market of Gaziantep (I will try to get all the spellings right). Luckily for me it was a weekday so as much as it was busy, it was not crowded and I got to enjoy a lot of what made it unique and beautiful without butting into too many people. The colour of dried fruits hanging above stalls, the colour and variety of spices and sweets, watching craftsmen create intricate patterns on copper, the friendliness of the shop owners who never hesitated to offer Turkish tea or coffee in addition to visiting the kitchen museum and enjoying my lunch and ice cream made for a great day.

Day 2: Gaziantep 

Day 3, although a relaxing morning, was again lost due to traveling to the next destination. Day 4 was glorious!!! Not the waking up at 3: 30 in the morning and walking up Mount Nemrut… thank goodness that a lot of it was driven and that there was a path for most of the rest of the journey, and certainly not the fact that I was back to wearing a jacket, but watching the sun rise from Mount Nemrut was magnificent. I left singing (as usual but in my head) the India Arie song: God is real, and the negro spiritual My Lawd what a Mawning… you know how you find those songs that just hit all the right notes and resonate with how you are feeling? From there it was the Euphrates River: cold, blue, beautiful and a photo opportunity of the Ataturk Baraji which is a dam based in the same river. Next, Urfa, where I visited the pool of Abraham, where it is believed that Abraham landed in the fire and the flames which turned to water and the wood to fish. The location and fish are still protected to this day and the only thing I regret is how busy it was that day, but I need to accept that it is not all about me and that I am not the only one who wants to enjoy or appreciate such a significant landmark.

Day 4: Nemrut, Ataturk Baraji & Urfa

Day 5 in the late evening, we visited the beautiful area of Cappadocia, where I honestly did not know where to look. Everywhere I turned there was a gorgeous view. Now I know there are a lot of explanations for why the area looks the way it does: volcanic eruptions, erosions of wind and rain etc., but that is not what I thought when I looked at it. The technicalities are definitely not what I saw, just the wonder, the beauty and all of the hotels and houses being made to match the natural layout and look of the area made me feel like I had walked onto the Flintstones set. So you can imagine that I was singing the theme song in my head for hours. It really was a beautiful stop and it definitely was touristy area, with some things, including a church I visited in the Zemi Valley, that are UNESCO heritage sites as well as good hiking areas.

Day 5: Cappadocia

The last few days in Istanbul were a lot quieter, not uneventful, but quiet and please do not think that Istanbul is in anyway a quiet town.  It felt like driving from the country to the city; know the difference? You hear car horns far more often, there are a lot more people, the Burger Kings, Starbucks and McDonalds are more prevalent and goodness knows that taxi drivers the world over just do not change. But those days were quiet largely because I was just tired and I felt like I had already seen so much. The Grand Bazaar, the sweet corn, the fish, the clothes, and the art were all so much to take in and just capped off what was an excellent holiday. I don’t often get to feel like a tourist, and although the country was not on my very poorly defined original list of places to visit, I thoroughly enjoyed that element of my trip.

Looming deadlines ...Changing topics... Groan

It doesn’t only feel like a long time since I wrote a blog; it has been a long time since I wrote a blog. I assure you that it isn’t because I have not been having experiences that can be shared, it is just that I have not had the time or energy to sit and write one. But I have written several in my head, so maybe it’s not just time and energy I lack but that extra something that makes me want to share. There is the one about the trip to Lincoln with the Chamber Choir that was eye-opening, a riot and a wonderful experience all wrapped up into one. There is also the one about locking myself out of the flat … that still makes me smile, although at first it was downright hilarious. And there is definitely the one about feeling like all my deadlines are bearing down on me and I am never going to finish anything on time. So which one am I going to write for you today… hmmm? Honestly I am free-writing and not sure where it will all lead.

It’s going to have to be the deadlines isn’t it?  Sigh ... So everyone says that a part of the PhD process is changing your topic.

Two weeks later? Three?

Well I wrote that section of this blog two weeks ago or was it three so you can imagine that I am definitely not sure what will come out now… but isn’t it amazing how reading something you wrote leads you right back to the feeling…hmmm. So everyone says that part of the PhD process is changing your topic or focus. Indeed, some people say that when you hand in the damn thing you are still uncertain of your contribution to the literature and exactly what you did. It appears that it is all about the journey, the learning and the becoming a researcher…hmmm… that is what this PhD thing is really about.

All of this talk and the reassurances from people who have been there are supposed to make you feel better, and honestly they really make you feel less alone but I am discovering something about myself. I do not work well when I do not know where I am going. I am a girl who likes her structure. This does not mean that I am not open to detours, what I am realising it means that I manage uncertainty with some sort of process and when that process, structure or even the goal is elusive I get antsy.

So imagine how I feel now, after eight months (well it was seven when it happened) and I find out that what I have been working towards all this time does not quite seem feasible and I need to change my focus. I FEEL LOST!!! I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to read, I don’t know where to turn and again… damn it … AGAIN I feel like chucking it all in. I am assured that I am not alone in this feeling either and I am pushing ahead but not knowing where I am pushing to. Seems like what your grandmother would tell you is ‘spinning top in mud’, or for others, going around in circles.

Amidst this riotous feeling of loss and my subsequent floundering I completed the final step in that Certificate in Research that I have been talking about by doing the Advanced Qualitative Methods course and it came with two assignments… woohoo!! So two assignments, a deadline for a chapter to give to my supervisor (which may not be needed because of the change), the ever looming date for my annual review (which is the more formal and serious one) and the fact that I have so little time to get everything done all wrapped up with the correcting of assignments, meeting with students who needed clarification of their grades and feedback, and my brain and body just shut down. All the good eating habits, all the exercising, all the structure I had put into my life to help me cope and achieve my goals just went kaput. Sigh…GROAN!!! UUUHHH!!!!

Throughout this struggle, I had so much support it is amazing and one of those voices of support kept telling me something very similar to the following quote. I am glad she was there to constantly chat with me by Skype, to whisper or shout encouraging words and to listen while I rambled on about my chapter and its structure and what I wanted to say and how it was not coming out right.

Dream small dreams. If you make them too big, you get overwhelmed and you don't do anything. If you make small goals and accomplish them, it gives you the confidence to go on to higher goals.

~ John H. Johnson~

So here I am … starting anew… lol. I finished that first chapter and submitted it, I finished correcting all the assignments, all the meetings with students and I attended all the classes; I am nearly finished the assignments for submission (yes only nearly) and I am starting to see myself when I look into the mirror now. So my focus and determination are coming back slowly and you know what ... I am going home! Maybe that is just what I need to help me recharge and refocus (and not to mention melt in the heat).

By focusing on one hurdle at a time and not obsessing on the bigger picture, I was able to make small strides daily. 200 words a day became 500 words without me realising and I think I peaked at 1500 one day (was it more?) and was so fussy you could not imagine. I will tell you the other stories later; I feel like I should say something more profound now to wrap up the lesson, but I know you got it.  For those at home … See you soon!!! 

A Balancing Act... Part 3: Weight

Uhhh!!!! I don’t even know that I want to discuss this. For as long as I can remember my mother has been pushing me to exercise, be more active and watch what I eat. She enrolled me in sports camps, took me walking with her on mornings and tried to get me up and moving. I hated it! I hated her for making me do it and as much as she kept pushing the problems that weight cause in my face I really did not want to do anything that I didn’t want to do.

There is something about lying in bed and reading a book, getting lost in the words, the characters and their stories that could keep me going for hours. I remember the days when I would skip meals just to finish a book. Do any of you remember when Sweet Valley University first came out? I would be in Cave Shepherd (A Barbadian department store) every Saturday as a new one became available. Buy the book in the morning, get home and not leave my room until I had finished reading every word. Even further back, I loved going to the supermarket with my granddad; he would shop and I would stand at the front of the store and read as many books as I could while waiting for him near the cash registers. Does any of that sound like a girl who likes moving around and sweating? NO!!! Exercise was not for me!!!

Then, my next love was food, or it became that way over time. OMG!!! Chips (fries for some), chicken, cake, shrimp, burgers, bread, macaroni pie, sweet potato pie, fish cakes… ok I need to stop, my stomach is growling. Please note that nowhere in there did you hear carrots, beans, eddoes, broccoli… EWWW!!!! No! No! No!!! Vegetables were not to be done either.

Well a lot of that has certainly changed, not all of it but some of it. There are still some vegetables that turn my stomach whether it is because of their texture, smell or just because they are green. But I eat lettuce now (you cannot imagine how big a step that is!); furthermore, I cook vegetables for myself and eat them – usually smothered with meat but I eat them. And … I get up on the cold mornings and I leave the flat and I walk/run/jog/shuffle along in an attempt to manage my weight. Groan. I do not do this because I like it, I still hate it; I do not do it because I am finally listening to my mother. As with most things in life, I do it because I have made a decision and there are certain things that I never want to experience again.

I never want to stand in front of my wardrobe again and cry because nothing fits, nothing looks good and to save myself the humiliation just stay at home. I never want to sit on a plane again and the chair handles hurt because I am too broad. I do not want to walk up slight inclines and be out of breath. There are just some lessons you have to learn alone, and there are just some things that no one can make you do. You have to want them for yourself. So I do this crap, which I still hate, for me.

Despite how wonderful that sounds and how committed and firm my tone, it is still a huge struggle. I come to a country where all of the things I LOVE to eat are so easily and readily available: tiramisu, chocolate cake, profiteroles, roast duck in plum sauce, prawn crackers … ok I need to stop again. With all that is available, I don’t want to stop eating … so I am seeking balance. Indulgence on occasion (supposedly rare occasions), eating healthy (most often) and trying so hard to sweat (at least four times a week)… Uhhh!!

So often I just want to quit and say to hell with it, I will eat whatever I want, lay in bed and read or catch a few more minutes snuggled under my quilt, and honestly some days that part of me wins. But there are other days, and I try to make them number more than the indulgent ones, where practicality and all the things I don’t want to happen again win too and I swear myself out of bed—“Come on, move your fat self, Tara…MOVE!” And then I figure if I have put in so much work walking/running/jogging/shuffling that I shouldn’t spoil it by eating badly. I don’t think I will ever be perfect or get it all right, but I am trying really, really hard for balance. 

A Balancing Act... Part 2: Connections

Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony. 

~ Thomas Merton~

What else am I doing to try to achieve balance? Well to be honest, writing this blog is one way that I am. I maintain this blog partially because it allows me to stay in contact with some people, and more because it allows me to share my experiences and how I feel for others to have a laugh at or think on and not feel so alone in their own fights. But singing and writing are only two aspects of balance for me.

What I also need for balance is to make connections with people – new and old. I need to make connections with persons so that I have someone(s) who I can share with, chat with, listen to, learn from or that will just be there the days that either of us needs it. Now I have not lost all of my home connections; thank goodness for Skype, Whatsapp, Facebook etc. I can still chat with my family or the girls and all the other people who I have known for what feels like forever, but connecting sometimes requires more than chatting on Skype or Whatsapp.

Connecting sometimes means that you need to be able to reach out and touch someone, be it a handshake or hug or just to see someone smile in person. Know what I mean?

When I first came here even that wasn’t too easy, as I was alone in an office more often than not since my office mate was not usually in. However, we have recently moved to a temporary building and I am definitely making connections now as I am currently sharing a room with 4 more female PhD candidates in room 3.09.

OMG Room 3.09!!! Now I know the first thought when some of you think of 5 women sharing a room is … too much oestrogen and mood swings in one room and it must definitely be somewhere to avoid, but it doesn’t feel that way to me. I am growing to really appreciate each of these women individually and definitely as a group. We are at varying stages in the PhD progress, from different backgrounds and with totally different experiences and interests which makes for an amazing combination of personalities and definitely a lot of chatting when we are all in (which doesn’t happen too often – unfortunately). Don’t get the impression that we do not get any work done, considering the stages we are at in our academic careers, we can all put our heads down and work very well without too much chatter but there are those few days that very little gets done.

With such different personalities and backgrounds, sometimes simple sentences need explanation as the terms, slang or words that someone uses may be unfamiliar to someone else in the group. My vocabulary and knowledge expands daily. More than the expanding knowledge though, I appreciate the constant support I receive from each of these women - I really hope that I am equally supportive to each of them when they need it.

My first mate from this group, Amy, who I met early in the programme because we completed Research Methods together, has such a warm smile and easy going personality that I think I bend her ear too often. Celebrity Ashleigh (so named for her looks and research) is in her second year of the programme and is always willing to share with us all that she has experienced so far and to allow us to learn from her whether it be her experience with tutoring, writing, reviews or clubbing. Stephanie, who flits in and out of the office as is necessary for her work, the baby of the group in age only, hides her strength of character and no-nonsense attitude behind beautiful curls and easy smiles. The insane one of the group, Anthea, is a delightful addition who is very serious about her work and has very high expectations and standards for the students she tutors, but makes me shake my head often at her antics and love of the ridiculous.

Put us all together and we have an insanity ladder in the room with each of our names. Now, the names are on post it note sheets and as everyone does something mildly insane or sane they are moved up and down the ladder. We also have a whiteboard where we write the quote of the day. More than that the fun things though, we are slowly connecting with each other, learning each other’s likes, dislikes, habits, and interests, and generally holding each other up through this arduous process. Just having someone listen to the emails you write or the layout of your chapter or to practice your presentations with and provide constructive feedback is invaluable.

They definitely provide me with some balance! 

A Balancing Act ... Part 1: Singing

Just as your car runs more smoothly and  requires less energy to go faster and farther when the wheels are in perfect alignment, you perform better when your thoughts, feelings, emotions, goals and values are in balance. 

~Brian Tracy~

How many times have you been told…all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy? I think I have said it more than I have heard it, which probably says something about me. I am seeking balance.

I am a firm believer in balance…we look for balance in choral singing where no one line of the group stands out above the other lines unless it is absolutely necessary. What we seek with the group is a blend that allows each line to add their unique melody and character to the group making the whole that much sweeter. There are some times in rehearsal when each line practices their part and individually they sound okay, good even, but when you put it all together OMG!!!! The music is amazing (my new word, especially with the correct Scottish twang).

But I am not seeking balance in the choir now; instead, I am seeking balance with me. Sure, I am pursuing this qualification but is that all there is to me? Well from previous blogs it is clear that singing is a part of me. Even my analogy speaks to how important music and singing are to my regular happiness and general existence. So I have started to watch other performers, understanding and expanding my own performances by learning from what I see and hear. I have also started listening to music that is recommended to me by others here, so that I become more accustomed to other styles and a different type of ‘folk music.’

Moreover, (another favourite word) I have joined the Chamber Choir and that is certainly a difference from what I am used to. Yes we perform some of the same music that I would have with the Cavite Chorale and other groups at home but the director is different, the skill level expected from each group member is different which then translates into the style, the strategy and the sound being different. These people pick up a sheet of music and sight read it, words  and all—yes I know this is not a challenge to some but it certainly is to me… that challenge forces me to sink or swim and do a lot of homework.

But I have drifted; I was talking about my balance. So … I am watching other performers, listening to new music and joined a new group. I am performing on my own occasionally, working on that ever challenging engaging performance. Moving from choral where you have to be so disciplined, to individual performance where you need to be very expressive so that you draw your audience in and entertain them is … I don’t know… so … how do I put it best? Right now it’s something to be done in the comfort of the shower or your home only.

But I need to be able to do this. It is vital to me not only as a performer but as a person. The ability to be comfortable and confident in any situation, let it all out and give my all in every sphere of my life is vital. I want to have my own—my own voice, my own interpretation.

This is my first step towards balance. What else do I need?   Hmmm …

Fighting to reach the destination

All you need is the plan, the road map, and the courage to press on to your destination. 

~Earl Nightingale~

Feeling lost doesn’t always mean that you cannot find your way on the street. Sometimes it means you cannot find your way in your mind. But isn’t it wonderful when everything starts to clear up and you cannot only see the streets in your mind and the direction that you must take, but the destination? The thing is that despite finding it all, there will always be days when you will feel lost all over again, and the only thing that will keep you going is the moment when you could see the destination. 

After that first review, I felt lost. I felt like a fraud that had no right pursuing a PhD. Who the hell was I to even be here? How did I even get this scholarship? The only thing I could see at that point, with any clarity, was the need to run and hide; the need to lick my wounds and figure out how to give them their money back and go home. You know what held me together, besides the emotional eating, and the time to think? A hug …. A hug for which I am supremely grateful, and to add to that there was also the memory of the destination, my destination, and why it is so important to me.

Everyone tells you that pursuing a PhD is a lonely road and one that will test your resolve, confidence, intelligence and temerity.  So few people tell you how to survive it, and there is a simple reason why. No one person follows this path exactly the same way as another; we all have to find the gumption to make it there alone. What works for me may not work for you.

But does this fight only apply to the pursuit of a PhD?  Why should we, PhD candidates, feel special? Can’t you apply this to almost anything that is important to your life? What do you fight to protect? What is so important to you that it brings you to tears when you feel like it is slipping away from your grasp? What will you get up out of bed for and say… I can do this, no matter how hard, knowing that at the end of this I will have achieved something that is important to me?

This will not be the last time I feel lost, but I am damn sure I will fight like a dog till I get to the destination!