Transitions

I had such noble aspirations for this blog when I set it up: chronicle the journey of a late-thirty-something single mother's journey through law school and personal/professional reinvention.

But then, there was a snafu with the ex and some legal wrangling last summer, before I could move with our daughter (for whom I have always been and continue to be the primary caregiver).

And being somewhat crunchy (and occasionally naive), I tried to commute to my daughter's school and mine exclusively by bus and bike for our first three months in Michigan. Not surprisingly, spending upwards of three hours a day commuting ate into my study time and I did not do nearly as well in my first semester of law school as I had hoped.

Eventually, I found my stride (and a decent 2000 Toyota Sienna minivan), revamped my approach to studying and realized: 1) the first year of law school really is as demanding as "they" say; 2) my daughter is a resilient child, but she still had a challenging time with the transition (at least initially) and needed me to be more fully present with her when we were together; and 3) there would be no time for blogging (even most of my Facebook and Twitter action were shares of other people's finds and insights).

So, as transitions go, my change from being The Boss of a university program to being a student (one of over 300 in my class), has been an exercise in humility and time management reform. But through it all, my experience of being a mother to a toddler-turned-preschooler has been my anchor and my inspiration, and - with her increasing verbosity - my accountability check. There's nothing quite like being chastised by a three year old who is using your own words and tone accurately, to reign you in (it's mostly when I drive, because Michigan drivers are ... "special").

Now it is summer, and I have survived the first year of law school (or at least I mostly have; we shall see if I totally have when the grades appear). I don't expect the rest of the journey to be easy (though I have enjoyed the downtime between the end of classes and the start of my urban agriculture practicum). But I do expect to be better situated to make time for journaling/blogging about this journey, and my myriad methods of starting over, building anew and making a stable home for my family.

Preparing to become an even more frugal foodie

I cannot believe that we will be moving in less than three months!

The time has flown by, aided in part by some "issues" I am having with my ex.  But I have faith that all will be resolved favorably soon, and my Little Miss and I will be able to embark on this exciting adventure soon!

One of the things I have recognized, as I purge belongings (a process that has become so cathartic, I am seriously at risk of just walking away from all belongings...except for Little Missy's favorite toys of course...I'm not crazy): I need to start more accurately living within the budget we will have once we move.  Which means: I need to do a better job planning for healthy eating and living on our soon-to-be restricted budget.

Today, a Facebook friend told me about the Health on a Budget online conference, kicking off this weekend.  It's sponsored by the folks at Raw Foods on a Budget.  Because, fundamentally, my commitment to urban agriculture and legal reform was inspired by my health saga five years ago, this is something I can certainly get on board with and support.


I may even sign up for the year-long access to the conference archives, as soon as I sell more of my belongings, that is.

To begin anew...

In these waning days of my first professional foray, I have had ample opportunity to explain my decision to move on, chase a dream, and hopefully, finally, pursue my passion.

I began this foray more than ten years ago, convinced that I wanted to be a university professor of English, when really, all I knew was that I did NOT want to teach middle and high school any more and I loved literature.  These last ten years were not, however, a waste.  They were my process of discovery and discernment, through which I made lifelong friends, had many fabulous and life-altering adventures, learned the power of failure and the regenerative force of love. 

But above all this, I finally found the courage to live my one life with passion and conviction.  

As I put to rest my eight year struggle with a dissertation that just... would... not... come... together, I came across two passages, one from Mizuta Masahide, a 17th century Samurai and the other, from Michel Foucault's The Use of Pleasure:

Barn's burnt down

Now

I can see the moon.

And

As to those for whom to work hard, to begin and begin again, to attempt and be mistaken, to go back and rework everything from top to bottom, and still find reason to hesitate from one step to the next – as to those, in short, for whom to work in the midst of uncertainty and apprehension is tantamount to failure, all I can say is that clearly we are not from the same planet.

Letting go of my doctoral pursuit was traumatic.  But it was also an opportunity to recalibrate, reimagine, clarify and truly see not who I thought I was going to be, but who I am happy I've become.

I have had two lifelines in the last two years: my daughter and my garden.  While I have always been vested in social justice, becoming a mother has made me even more determined to insure that I am actively helping to create the world in which I want my daughter to grow and thrive.  I became even more obsessive about gardening and, as much as my schedule as a working single mother allowed, embraced the urban homesteading lifestyle.  That commitment introduced me to an incredible community of urban homesteaders, notwithstanding some self-important strivers who had convinced themselves that they were the founders of urban homesteading, and therefore had the right to trademark the terms "urban homestead" and "urban homesteading".  Dorks.

In the last year, I have recognized an increasingly enthusiastic transformation in my professional and personal interests.  While I still love literature (reading it, rather than writing about it [or worse, grading writing about it]), and I still aspire to publish (memoir and fiction), I have become mildly obsessive about urban agriculture, urban sustainability and the role of the law in both.

So, with my current position vulnerable to the federal budget pissing match, my daughter being young enough to forgive me, and all of my non-school debt due to be paid off by next spring, I decided to do something radical.

I am going back to school.

I have already received a full tuition scholarship to one of my top law school choices, which is awesome, because I am absolutely debt-adverse given the state of the legal job market, my age and my goals: I aspire to be a legal advocate for urban agricultural activities in post-industrial cities like Detroit.  I don't anticipate getting rich, but look forward to making a living doing meaningful and variable work that I suspect I will enjoy.

And so, I begin anew.

It is scary.  It is exciting.  It is me.