Is PhD REALLY a Lonely Journey?: My "Crowded" Journey
Is PhD really a lonely journey?
The answer to that will vary, depending on our perspectives. Being quite spiritual and religious myself, I might for example argue that life in itself is actually a lonely journey. We were born alone to this world (even those with a twin did not come "together" out of their mother's womb), and we will die a lonely death.
But, I am aware of the fact that loneliness has some positive and negative ramifications. Most of the time, it is viewed negatively, and as such bears negative consequences. I recently watched a news report telling about how older people who are lonely tend to die earlier than those who are not. Sad.
What about PhD journeys? There is no absolute yes or no answer to that.
For me, embarking this journey with two little kids and a husband made me feel like it is actually a crowded journey--mostly in a positive sense.
I visualize this journey as one that I venture on a small boat enough for one or two passengers at most, but overcrowded with four passengers on a muddy, serpentine, and rapidly flowing river.
Being the navigator, I have to navigate not only the untamed river but also the passengers on the boat to keep steady, to remain in the boat with me, no matter what. Because if they jumped, I would also fall down to the river. We all would probably get drowned, the boat sink, and we had to swim ashore--if we could.
Is it that hard? Yes, and no...
Having family coming along in my PhD journey has been most of the time very rewarding. I feel a lot less lonely. I have people to come home to. I have kids to brighten my days when I am down. I have a husband to share my complaints and all the mixed feelings.
I know a couple of fellow PhDs who embarked their journey alone, without any family or friends. They have to "create" their own family and friends once they arrive in the new place.
PhD students in Australia normally do not take regular classes. Even when they do, most of the classes are done online. So, the chance of gathering, chatting, or hanging out after class is small.
They also work alone in their cubicle or work space. They may meet and greet each other, but they really have to focus on what they are doing to avoid getting behind and disturbing others working seriously.
The covid-19 case that has caused so many unprecedented issues globally, I guess, has made the loneliness even more striking. Many PhD students who already live their lives in "isolation" have now to further isolate themselves from others.
What about me?
Well, having two very young kids really makes being able to work in the cubicle a privilege. So, the strong recommendation to work from home does not really affect they way I study. When my husband was still at home, I could go to campus quite regularly--although not more than 5 hours a day, and leave the care of the kids with him.
But now, with hubby at work, I really have to do almost all the caring and household chores myself. I am too busy to feel lonely.
Here is what a typical day in my life looks like:
Waking up rather early in the morning, after shubuh prayer I switch on my laptop and read one or two articles or write a few paragraphs. I will continue working as much as I can, until my children are awake. Sometimes the younger one will wake up and ask me to cuddle with her. I will stop my work immediately, too.
The next two to three hours will be spent for preparing my older kid to school: getting him to bath, get dressed, and eat. I will also have to pack his lunch and reading books.
After that, I will drop my son to school, and sometimes my daughter as well if she happens to have a playgroup class that day.
Coming back home, I will try to read or write a few sentences, but it depends on my daughter's mood. If she is in a good mood, I can enjoy working for at least an hour. If not, well, forget work.
The rest of the morning until noon will be spent on doing the laundry, washing the dishes, tidying up the house, folding clothes, cooking, and feeding the kids.
Time flies, really. Next thing I know, it's time to pick up my son.
Coming home, I have to prepare lunch for him.
Exhausted, I will spend the rest of the day slouching on the sofa while watching TV or browsing on my phone.
Sometimes, I will do some other work at night. But, most of the time, I will go straight to bed, exhausted.
Really, I have no time to feel lonely.
Well, this is the ideal picture.
In reality?
When deadlines are pressing, I will have to sacrifice the cooking or cleaning of the messy house. I will have to take a blind eye to the mount of clothes waving at me, urging me to fold them; to the heaps of books lying on the floor, screaming at me to stack them up neatly on the shelves; to the smelly and dirty laundry filling in the basket; to the nasty looking dishes in the sink; and focus on my work. Can I? Sometimes... some other time, I really cannot pretend the mess was invisible.
That is a day in my crowded journey as a PhD student.
Indeed, the challenge is not only on how to succeed academically, but more on how to navigate myself in the complex web of needs and interests of my own, my kids, my husband, and us. There is not just me, but they, and us.
Rather than focus on the "bad" things, I prefer to see my crowded PhD journey in a more positive light. My family gives me a stronger sense of purpose. They give me the feeling of being at home while I am not. They may give me headaches sometimes, but most of the time they serve as a cure for any illnesses that I have.
So, what does your PhD life look like?
The answer to that will vary, depending on our perspectives. Being quite spiritual and religious myself, I might for example argue that life in itself is actually a lonely journey. We were born alone to this world (even those with a twin did not come "together" out of their mother's womb), and we will die a lonely death.
But, I am aware of the fact that loneliness has some positive and negative ramifications. Most of the time, it is viewed negatively, and as such bears negative consequences. I recently watched a news report telling about how older people who are lonely tend to die earlier than those who are not. Sad.
What about PhD journeys? There is no absolute yes or no answer to that.
For me, embarking this journey with two little kids and a husband made me feel like it is actually a crowded journey--mostly in a positive sense.
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| errantscience.com |
I visualize this journey as one that I venture on a small boat enough for one or two passengers at most, but overcrowded with four passengers on a muddy, serpentine, and rapidly flowing river.
Being the navigator, I have to navigate not only the untamed river but also the passengers on the boat to keep steady, to remain in the boat with me, no matter what. Because if they jumped, I would also fall down to the river. We all would probably get drowned, the boat sink, and we had to swim ashore--if we could.
Is it that hard? Yes, and no...
Having family coming along in my PhD journey has been most of the time very rewarding. I feel a lot less lonely. I have people to come home to. I have kids to brighten my days when I am down. I have a husband to share my complaints and all the mixed feelings.
I know a couple of fellow PhDs who embarked their journey alone, without any family or friends. They have to "create" their own family and friends once they arrive in the new place.
PhD students in Australia normally do not take regular classes. Even when they do, most of the classes are done online. So, the chance of gathering, chatting, or hanging out after class is small.
They also work alone in their cubicle or work space. They may meet and greet each other, but they really have to focus on what they are doing to avoid getting behind and disturbing others working seriously.
The covid-19 case that has caused so many unprecedented issues globally, I guess, has made the loneliness even more striking. Many PhD students who already live their lives in "isolation" have now to further isolate themselves from others.
What about me?
Well, having two very young kids really makes being able to work in the cubicle a privilege. So, the strong recommendation to work from home does not really affect they way I study. When my husband was still at home, I could go to campus quite regularly--although not more than 5 hours a day, and leave the care of the kids with him.
But now, with hubby at work, I really have to do almost all the caring and household chores myself. I am too busy to feel lonely.
Here is what a typical day in my life looks like:
Waking up rather early in the morning, after shubuh prayer I switch on my laptop and read one or two articles or write a few paragraphs. I will continue working as much as I can, until my children are awake. Sometimes the younger one will wake up and ask me to cuddle with her. I will stop my work immediately, too.
The next two to three hours will be spent for preparing my older kid to school: getting him to bath, get dressed, and eat. I will also have to pack his lunch and reading books.
After that, I will drop my son to school, and sometimes my daughter as well if she happens to have a playgroup class that day.
Coming back home, I will try to read or write a few sentences, but it depends on my daughter's mood. If she is in a good mood, I can enjoy working for at least an hour. If not, well, forget work.
The rest of the morning until noon will be spent on doing the laundry, washing the dishes, tidying up the house, folding clothes, cooking, and feeding the kids.
Time flies, really. Next thing I know, it's time to pick up my son.
Coming home, I have to prepare lunch for him.
Exhausted, I will spend the rest of the day slouching on the sofa while watching TV or browsing on my phone.
Sometimes, I will do some other work at night. But, most of the time, I will go straight to bed, exhausted.
Really, I have no time to feel lonely.
Well, this is the ideal picture.
In reality?
When deadlines are pressing, I will have to sacrifice the cooking or cleaning of the messy house. I will have to take a blind eye to the mount of clothes waving at me, urging me to fold them; to the heaps of books lying on the floor, screaming at me to stack them up neatly on the shelves; to the smelly and dirty laundry filling in the basket; to the nasty looking dishes in the sink; and focus on my work. Can I? Sometimes... some other time, I really cannot pretend the mess was invisible.
That is a day in my crowded journey as a PhD student.
Indeed, the challenge is not only on how to succeed academically, but more on how to navigate myself in the complex web of needs and interests of my own, my kids, my husband, and us. There is not just me, but they, and us.
Rather than focus on the "bad" things, I prefer to see my crowded PhD journey in a more positive light. My family gives me a stronger sense of purpose. They give me the feeling of being at home while I am not. They may give me headaches sometimes, but most of the time they serve as a cure for any illnesses that I have.
So, what does your PhD life look like?
Tasmania, 22 March 2020
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