A Qualitative Sociologist Makes you Three Graphs About Happiness Re: The Job Market

For a long time, this is how I envisioned a happy life, as I moved through daily emotions and experiences. 

Yay. Happiness. Sure, a bad thing or two might happen sometimes, but mostly? Neutral to happy. Really excited happy.

There was some accuracy in my worldview. Because that is kiiiind of what my life looked like this last year. Except, I was on the job market, and I realized a more accurate portrayal of my life would be this:

   










I'm not 100% finished with the job market. So I will refrain from announcements just yet. Nor will I illustrate these graphs with arrows pointing to the precise causes of each of these blips... however tempting.

Instead, I will just say that the most important lesson I learned on the stupid, freaking job market this year is that excitement feels a lot like anxiety, and actually, I don't necessarily prefer anxiety to depression. So, I think contentment and bliss look a lot more like this:

We are all humans and we all have emotions, but until this year, I actually thought equanimity was kind of a crock. Like, wouldn't you rather be falling in love, choosing between job offers and jet-setting all over than sitting on your couch crying? In the past, I would have given you a vehement yes. But now? I wonder how different they really are. For the first time in my life I am pretty sure that while the highs and lows are fine, it in is the space between them where I actually feel best. It's the ability to maintain that groundedness in between all of the other stuff that gives me space to feel real happiness. Because that is the space where things make sense, that is the space where I can remain mindful enough to enjoy the things happening around me, and that is the space where I am not a complete and utter crazy person.*

Maybe this was already obvious to you. But I for one had to spend nine months (plus ~23 years) in varying states of academic angst to figure it out. I would pay for equanimity if I could. And I'd sell everything I own to get it. And it's not because I'm a boring old grandma. It's because I actually want to remember living and being in my life, not just wanting to puke all over it. And that's how I felt a lot of the time.

(Maybe this post should have had a different title?)

Namaste

*Well. It's all relative.