Strangely enough, I find myself very interested in theories of transition as well as practical aspects of career development, such as creating resumes, writing cover letters, choosing a career path, planning/taking action(s), etc. As I am doing these things myself, I find that it would be very rewarding to help others take the concrete steps they need to have a fulfilling career life as well.

I’ve written a few articles in this fashion previously, but would like to create a larger collection of them, teach a few workshops, and perhaps do some mentoring. In this tough economy, we can all use a little help when it comes to the job search. Perhaps I can give others the edge they need to succeed.

After careful consideration, I have decided to repurpose Ambitious Inquiry. My original purpose for this blog was to use these posts as a professional journal while I work through graduate school, research topics of interest, and establish myself as a transpersonal psychologist. However, as I enter into a new phase – writing my dissertation (free of classes) and discovering more about myself – I realize that my true passion lies in writing. I’ve decided to focus more on that.

If you’ve read my previous blogs, you know that I particularly enjoy stories that begin from personal experience, those that I read as well as those that I write. I believe that as witnesses of our own daily lives, we all have something important to contribute. We enlighten one another with the stories we share, participating in one another’s experiences by listening and feeling. It has been my lifelong dream to have others read the stories that have come to me over the years, those that I have experienced as well as those that have been inspired by my experiences. I feel that now is the right time to work more consistently toward that goal.

As such, Ambitious Inquiry will be used as a home base for my writing efforts, which will include 1)niche blogging and 2) freelance submissions.

Last week, I launched Recreational Athlete. Within the next month or two, I plan on expanding even further with blogs focused on book reviews – I read so many novels – and love & relationships. Stay tuned for updates about these and other projects in the next week or two.

Peace,

Nadia

But that will have to wait.

What I am actually doing is sitting in my school’s library, trying to salvage my dissertation. The document sits open on the desktop in front of me, immobile. I am supposed to be utilizing a creative, evocative method, but the tone of the words on the page sound as if they are coming from somewhere far removed. Distant. Impersonal. Lifeless.

Fear creeps it’s way into my mind as I imagine what this might mean. That I have done it all wrong. Who was I to think that I could pull off an autoethnographic masterpiece? I think of Carolyn Ellis, my ethnographic idol and envision myself pacing back and forth across my living room as she sits silently on my couch reviewing what I have thus far. In my vision, as she completes the piece, she places it carefully on her lap. She takes off her glasses (assuming she wears them) and with a sigh shakes her head slowly, unable to look me in the eye. And as I sink to the floor with tears in my eyes, she stamps she pounds the cover page with a big red stamp that reads “UNSALVEAGEABLE.”

I am getting nowhere.

I let my head fall slowly to the surface of my desk as I pondered the possibility of spending another year working on this research. Then I remember Genie Palmer’s words from my Intuitive Inquiry class last quarter.

“Trust the process,” she told us. While I didn’t find this the least bit heartening, I decided to heed her advice. At least for the moment. I printed out the entire document. I figured that, even if it was a disaster, there might something useful inside of it. For now, it was back to the drawing board.

My new plan was to review all of the material I had on my method, autoethnography (52 articles/book chapters – YES!), and take notes. But this didn’t seem right either. What was disturbing me now was a nagging feeling that this whole process was somehow working against me. I’m trying to complete this proposal the way the school wants me to, by in the traditional dissertation format that all students before me have had to submit it: Introduction, Lit Review, Methods. Later on, of course, would come the Results and Discussion. But that wasn’t right. This whole process, for me, began somewhere else. It began with me finding my method.

That was it!

I snatched my document from the printer and found the methods section. I turned over the top page and began writing furiously. I wrote about the frustration of feeling that each method I dabbled in didn’t seem quite right. I wrote about the desire I had to find a method that spoke to me as a researcher, writer, and creative person. Finally, I wrote about the article that disturbed so much that I knew I had found what I was looking for (Rambo’s My Mother is Mentally Retarded). As contrived as this may seem, when it was over, I was truly breathless. I tossed my pen down and looked at what I had done. I had written a story about my method. I had written a story. I had written!

“I’m WRITING.” I spoke aloud, as if I had been completely unaware of this before. Because I HAD been unaware of it. I’m not sure if it was the pressure to ‘get it right’ that was holding me back or my lack of enthusiasm for ‘scholarly’ writing, but I learned a valuable lesson: that my story is the foundation of my dissertation and in order for that to move forward, I need to write it out.

I review my methods articles (30 down, 22 to go!) with a newfound enthusiasm. As I do this, I write notes in a voice that has long been buried underneath a pile of inapplicable scholarly expectations. While I do have the occasional desire to speed up this process, I no longer feel like I’d rather be doing something else. In fact, as my workout calls out me, I wish I could push it back just a bit longer. My fingers are itching to type the notes I have taken thus far and place them into my dissertation.

But alas, that will have to wait.

Nadia

I had one of these moments yesterday when, re-reading one particular article for the fourth time this year, I found a treasure trove of information that is immensely helpful to the theoretical portions of my mini-proposal. “How,” I asked myself, “is this even possible!?” Upon further reflection, I realized that each time I sat down to look the piece over, I was grappling with completely different aspects of my overall theory.

The article in question is Levels of Meaning in Family Stress Theory by Patterson and Garwick (1994). The first time I sat down with it, my intention was to understand family systems theory. The second time was to understand stress in the family. The third time was to define family adjustment. And finally, this last time was to gain insight into meaning-making in the family.

Anyone who has ever chosen a study topic that has very little preceding literature and research (like family emergence during the transgender transition) knows that you have to spend a great deal of time piecing together theory using work that has been done in the most closely related areas. If you don’t know exactly what you’re looking for in the beginning, you have to search for it by immersing yourself in this literature.

For a long time I wondered why it was so difficult to write my literature review. Now I understand that (aside from an excruciatingly slow pace and a waning procrastination habit) I didn’t have the conceptual map that I needed. And it wasn’t because I didn’t have the ability to grasp it, but rather, there were other portions that needed to fall into place before I could even think to try to. This meant hopping from one set of literature (the family) to another (human interaction) and another (transgender identity) and back (to the family) so that each reading had something different for me, something new to offer.

My advice to others who are having a particularly difficult time with their lit reviews is this: 1) read more than you think you have to in the beginning, 2)write often, and 3) when you become stuck conceptually, make an outline, reread, and write some more. Once you become so intrigued with your theory that you can’t wait to uncover more, celebrate, cause this is where your momentum begins.

Peace,

Nadia

I think that this is a great idea. As a recovering procrastinator, I know the all too well the benefits of blocking out a good week or two to simply write in the company of others who are working away diligently on their own projects. I also happen to be in the midst of writing my mini-proposal (a short version of the actual proposal) and could certainly use a bit of motivation. Since the meeting with my supervisor, I’ve been asking myself the questions “What would my ideal dissertation bootcamp look like?”

Here is what I came up with:

1. Scheduled blocks of writing time (4hrs). Nothing says get it done like planting yourself in front of the laptop. Even if I get off to a slow start, there’s plenty of room to settle into the work.

2. Rejuvinating breaks (1.5-2hrs). You can’t really know ahead of time what you’ll need to feel like you’ve gotten a break, but if there is enough time and enough options, you’ll figure it out. Ideally, there would be a room where participants can do yoga, a quiet area to relax or meditate in, and a natural setting where one could take a walk.

3. Readers. This one is self-explanatory. Students will be at different stages of the dissertation process. Some will be writing proposals, others will be creating annoucements or polishing their discussions. Readers will have an idea of whether or not they are on the right track.

4. Mini-Workshops(or Q&A). These would be geared toward particular steps in the dissertation process. There might be a Q&A on what to include in the Introduction or Literature Review or a workshop designed to help you choose or tighten up your methods.

3. Overnight accommodations. Sure, this is a stretch, but imagine waking up with the feeling that “Today I’m going to get a lot accomplished” and the knowledge that there are others around with the same goal. This is way, both early risers and late sleepers will have the opportunity to settle into their day of writing and work at the times that are right for them.

4. A full kitchen. This is probably the wildest of them all, but I personally value my ability to make breakfast. Freshly brewed coffee, two eggs over medium, and a slice of buttered toast (wheat). Its a familiar routine that helps me prepare for the day ahead of me. It helps me to slide comfortably into the world of time and commitments. I can only guess that others might feel this way.

There you have it. This is my ideal dissertation bootcamp. Let me know what you think.

Nadia

Unfortunately, the academic/research fields tend to be behind the times in the realm of communication technology (presumably save those directly related to technology). Psychology in particular has just recently begun to dabble in the internet, for its therapeutic uses, dissemination of information, and finally networking.

In an ideal world, my dream qualitative community would exist online and be based locally. This way, we could exchange ideas online and strengthen relationships in person. The net really allows ease of communication. With social networking apps like facebook and twitter, you also get messages out to a great deal of people very quickly. Yet, there’s something about being physically present that solidifies one’s connection to others. I tend to look forward to that.

In the social sciences, it seems like our networking practices are still largely in a conference model. As Chris Brogan noted, spending tons of money hoping to come away with a little bit of information and a load of business cards may not be the best way to find people involved in our particular niche. Right now, the best I can hope for is a listserv or a facebook group (which may be a bit too big for what I’m envisioning). Perhaps the way to make my dream happen is to do what Brogan himself did and start my own community.

If you have the opportunity, please check it out and let me know what you think. I am posting it in the “writings” section of this blog because it is a combination of creative processing and scholarly study. (For some reason, the thumbnail isn’t showing up. I will work on getting this fixed, but for now you can click on the box to open up the image url)

My next step is to complete a proposal for the Ethnography conference coming up this summer in Ohio. I look forward to reworking the poster to explain more about the transpersonal.

Peace,

Nadia

I must say that the prospect of TAing Qualitative Research Methods was both exciting and nerve wracking. While I really enjoy exploring qualitative methods, I wasn’t sure if I really knew enough to help guide other students in their research process. Even though there was no class today, first assignments were due. After reading and commenting on a few, I realized that I know more than I gave myself credit for.

It is very rewarding to feel like I have made a meaningful contribution to someone’s project. And I must say, what I have read so far was very inspiring. This affirms to me that we are going in the right direction. I look forward to more great experiences as the quarter moves along.

Peace,

Nadia

My research question: Does participation in National Novel Writing Month increase speed of completion on academic writing tasks?

I’m don’t think there have been any studies done on the nanowrimo population. To think, there is a wealth of information and a solid population of people who participate! Its just waiting to be tapped into!

My question is: What is the relationship between writing consistently and writing meaningfully? If I develop a consistent practice and am unable to write meaninfully ever time, have my efforts been fruitful? Can I become okay with writing horrible prose? I always tell other people, you have to write the crappy prose before uncovering the juicy tidbits of our experience. The story lies deep within the human self and we must dig deeper to get to it. Is this so hard for me to believe? Does anyone else believe it?

When writing for myself (as opposed to writing something for class or academia), can I write off-topic or must I write in essay form, with an introduction, a body, and a conclusion?

I can hear the voices of my fellow novelists tweeting “Just Write, innerinquiry!” Just write.

Just…write.

So get to it.

Mwuah,

Nadia