the way that light attaches to a girl

a bit of brightness in the slate gray of Chicago

Saturday, January 20, 2007

pressure cooker

In the six months that I have been out of college, I have yet to determine what will be happening in my life next year. I applied early decision to my dream law school and was deferred. I contemplate whether I should have applied to other schools, but feel strongly that I need to work on certain aspects of my application for the next cycle to make it as strong as possible. If by some miracle I do get into this fabulous institution to which I applied for admission, then my life will be great. But will it? How do we really know that, when we want something and seek to achieve it, our goal is truly what we should be seeking?

When applying to college, I felt certain I would be admitted to the university of my choice. And I was. But I no longer feel that kind of confidence about law school, graduate school, or even in my current career path. I worry constantly whether this incident or that thing will get me in trouble at work. I wonder whether I am doing a good job, or my profound lack of experience by virtue of being so young makes people look at me as just the cute, young, new girl--void of all intelligence and possible meaningful contributions to the company. I question what graduate programs I should pursue. Law? Middle East studies? Even (gasp) the Rabbinate?!

Every choice has drawbacks. Nothing is without its pitfalls. Law school has the greatest appeal and flexibility at this point. I have wanted to go for a long time. The law resonates with me personally, and I know I could make a difference in the lives of so many people. Yet the hours are brutal. I know that, when I graduate (unless I went to a school with amazing loan forgiveness) I would have to sell out and work for a big corporate firm for awhile to pay off loans. Getting a Ph.D. would be amazing. I am incredibly interested in Middle East studies. I love being a Hebrew speaker. I love being in the Middle East and would love to see more than just Israel. Yet I don't know if I would want to be an academic. Having a Ph.D. is rather restrictive. You have to work as a professor, researcher or for some kind of think tank. It's also extremely difficult to advance in a career without being extraordinary. While I used to think I was extraordinary, I don't know that I feel the same now at all. The Rabbinate is a whole nother story. I feel connected to Judaism, Jewish culture, etc. I would like to help people in the Jewish community and reach out to them, help them heal spiritually. Yet many people say that one should heed some kind of call to enter the clergy. Is that true? Do you need to heed a call to become a rabbi? Am I being called? My internal phone does not appear to be ringing.

I also think that these feelings of anxiety, doubt, the pressure to succeed and make money, acquire prestige and stability, etc. are extremely difficult to verbalize in a coherent way to anyone. My friends all seem to know what I am talking about when I try to articulate my feelings--albeit in a garbled, confused stream of consciousness way. Even those of my friends in graduate school seem to feel this incredible sense of weighty anxiety about their futures.

I guess the question remains--at any point in life, does anyone actually have his/her act together? Does anyone actually know what the hell he/she is doing? I wonder if I will ever know the answer.