Ego vs. Channel: Let it All Pour Out

Part of why I've been so absent from posting is because an amazing job opportunity fell in my lap. I'll tell you all about it sometime, but for now, suffice it to say: I was offered something akin to what is a dream position for me right now in my life, on the condition that I finish my dissertation in about two months time. I now have five weeks remaining and the writing stretches before me.

I've often said that 90% of grad school is psychological (maybe this is true of life in general). What it takes to get out of bed each day and work your butt off at an extremely high performance level isn't simply discipline. In the hardest times, you must contend with doubt, a great deal of rejection, writer's block, stress, anxiety, confusion, exhaustion and disappointment. These feelings may visit you regularly and yet still, you must go on. You can swim in them for years otherwise, and then you can add shame and guilt to the list. (I myself spent about two years of graduate school accomplishing virtually nothing). Of course in the good times, there is pride, excitement, enthusiasm, and that moment of saying "oh yes, that's why I'm here!" My research is designed to help people, and their gratitude and support lifts me up and motivates me to continue. On the good days, I know: I am doing important things. People who suffer deeply are counting on me, and they believe in me, and I am in their service. And I believe in myself, wholeheartedly.

The trouble is, you can't always choose which of those kinds of days you'll have. And when you have a mere five weeks to write another couple hundred pages (give or take), with little time for editing or revision, there really aren't a whole lot of days you can spend cringing in a corner asking yourself how on earth you put yourself in a situation that is actually this impossible. There isn't time. You must go on.

My dog, helping the research process. Also feeling down about work.

How does one do that? I don't believe in stuffing down emotions or anxiety. I feel things and they are valid, and those things can be honored and observed and even loved. Stuffing down the panic or dread I felt upon waking this morning would have left me paralyzed, I'm certain. If I don't acknowledge the dread, it cowers behind me in my shadow, pulling at my shoulders all day long. On the other hand, when I feel high and inspired, I can spend all kinds of time telling myself how brilliant I am and what life-changing work I am doing, and then lose all perspective about my actual writing. It's hard to navigate this, when the emotions I'm feeling undoubtedly color my work, and while I'm aware that positive thinking is essential for me to complete this task on time.

You see, what I'm doing isn't done. I finished collecting my data mere days ago. I have five weeks to write everything. And while a dissertation is only a first draft of an ongoing project, this is not a timeline I have heard of anyone taking on. And yet: I am doing it anyway. So I have to be surrounded by people crazy enough to believe that finishing is possible, or I'd look back at what everyone else has done before me and believe it wasn't. How do I maintain that level of positivity which is so crucial to being able to attempt the unimaginable, while not getting caught in a samsara cycle of dread versus elation?

I've decided the key is in the distinction between letting your ego drive your work, versus seeing yourself as a channel of the divine. My ego can easily be caught up in my performance outcomes. How many words I wrote. How lovely they sound. How clever my ideas are. This is also where the dread comes in, when I count the number of pages that need to be written, and the time remaining, and I panic. This is impossible, I realize, over and over again. (To be clear, I know I will finish. I always do. But there are ways of finishing that nearly kill you, and I'm trying to avoid that).

Another way of thinking about this is to see myself as a channel. This is not only my dissertation. I am only one piece of the process. I am the vessel, the writer, the hands at the computer. In this view, I trust that the words will come, that they will be clear and compelling. I trust that the paper will do what it needs to do, and anything stuck will untangle itself in time. I needn't worry about how brilliant it is. It will be as brilliant as is necessary. After all, it is being guided by something far greater and more powerful that I alone am. The universe will kiss the pages with loving kindness and insight, and the only thing I have to do is trust. It's like standing at a cliff, closing your eyes, and letting yourself fall, knowing you will be carried by something so you might safely land on your feet.

Cultivating that knowing, that trust, that faith is then the most important ingredient in the process. Without it, the ego returns, and the ego is inconsistent, it is driven by temporary and often meaningless things. As a channel, I can see those emotions rise and fall, but realize, they are not responsible for the outcomes here. They do not determine my fate. They are companions. But it is as a channel that the words come through me, and my creation moves forward, untroubled by worries of word counts and posturing. Only I can do this work. And yet, the most painless way to finish is a simultaneous acknowledgement that it isn't up to me, that something far greater creates all things, and I am just a small manifestation of the process. I allow it to work through me.

In this way, the ego is placated. Not removed, but calmed. Because it is not in charge here anymore. So even if you don't believe in the divine, I still think this perspective can bring about a kind of calm that will allow you to do your best work, regardless of who you believe is typing at your desk. Whether you call it flow, or being in the zone, or having an angel by your side, your work can be a gift that you generously give for the good of all beings, once you finally stop obsessing about how effortful it all must be, and just let it pour out.