Getting It

Girl from the North Country, Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash

Philip and I are doing some of that digging deep that the blog’s title claims we’re doing. It is really hard to write about, because I am afraid that if I write something down I am committed to feeling that way. This process doesn’t work that way. There are ups and downs.

We’re trying to make up our minds about how we want to rank the programs he’s applied for. Basically, we are trying to decide (for the fourth time in our marriage) where do we want to live? And, by extension, what kind of life do we want to lead?

When we moved to Oakland our thinking was: so we’re getting married and having a kid, let’s at least stick with part of our plan, which had been to go to the Bay Area. When we moved to London our thinking was: we’ve got the funding to live in London for a year, why not? Oh, and let’s have a baby while we’re at it. When we moved here our thinking was: Harvard has a great medical school and Boston’s not so bad.

Residency is going to be a bitch and so for a couple years we have been saying that our thinking is that we’d like to be where we will have a strong support system. That has meant that we’ll either stay put or move near our families. So, we’ve been mulling over these choices for the last year. The day when we submit the rank list is approaching. We’re still somewhat up in the air.

The hurricane had nudged us towards New Orleans. When most people hear this, they are confused and puzzled. People nod, because they can hear the words we are saying, but they are anything but encouraging. We have to spend a lot of time explaining ourselves. I don’t know exactly why people are puzzled, but I think I can guess what may be going on in their minds: But you are Harvard...you can go anywhere (why choose there?). Why make life hard on yourself? Schools for your kids? More hurricanes? The heat and humidity? The South? Too much inequity. Where will you live? Toxins and pollution? Too many unknowns.

I can understand all of these reservations. I have most of them myself. Philip asked me the other day to explain to him logically why we should move to New Orleans. I told him that I couldn’t. It is a visceral-spiritual-gut feeling that feels right. I can imagine myself in Boston or Iowa or Oregon too, but those fantasies just don’t feel exactly right. Most of the time, when I surrender my fear and worries, New Orleans beckons.

When I am out and about, I am not talking as much as I usually do about our decision making process. If people ask, I say a little something, but I leave a lot up in the air. It is too discouraging to share what’s on my heart.

Last week my sister-in-law, Miranda, and I sat at her kitchen table in Chicago sipping hot chocolate. We don’t get enough time to chat on the phone and so when we see each other there’s a lot of catching up to do. Out of nowhere she said, “I totally understand what’s drawing you to New Orleans.” We weren’t even talking about it. She just came out with it. I looked up and smiled and my eyes got teary. It was such a relief to have someone “get” me. It was simple to her: you want to help and you have a connection down there. For her, what more is there to ask?

I wish there wasn’t anything left to ask. But there is... But you are Harvard...you can go anywhere (why choose there?). Why make life hard on yourself? Schools for your kids? More hurricanes? The heat and humidity? The South? Too much inequity. Where will you live? Toxins and pollution? Too many unknowns.