On Balance (or off it)

This week will be the first week since the start of June that I've been able to divide my time equally between my PhD and all the other commitments I've racked up. And to be frank, the lack of balance has been throwing me off recently.

This isn't really a complaint: I've done amazing things since the start of June that I never would have thought would be achievable in the next three years, let alone within four weeks. (If you're wondering how the Aspire conference went - it was amazing. I've actually not blogged about it yet because I want to do it justice.) But the lack of balance has been worrying me: suddenly my PhD seemed a remote idea; something quaint and loose and not pressing; something removed from my everyday life.

As a part-time PhD student and sufferer of imposter syndrome (you too? Wow! Great! We should talk.) this had been really worrying me over the last two weeks. If I can go a month doing barely any PhD work and not really minding, does that mean I care enough? Should I even be doing this? Who was I kidding, I'm not made for PhDing - I love public speaking and coaching and innovation...maybe this is a sign. Maybe I'm wasting my time!

And so on.

But, I also know that I need to be forgiving. I need to make the same allowances of myself that I do of everyone else. And I need to remember that having other elements to your identity, to your life, doesn't invalidate your identity as a researcher. (Even if the consistent noise on twitter about wordcounts and editing progress make me think every other PhD student doesn't sleep.) This isn't because I'm a special snowflake: even the most dedicated stay-in-the-lab-till-midnight PhD student is more than just that.

I suppose that for a part-timer, you have to prioritise all those other bits at the very least because otherwise you don't have money for food. But the last few weeks have done more than that: rather than seeing my enthusiasm for other times as a weakness, I'm trying to remind myself that I LOVE enthusiasm. I love it in others, and I love it in myself. And having more of that, for more things, surely can't be bad?

And speaking of enthusiasm, guess what?

I can't WAIT to get back to research later this week. 

On Going the Hard Way

Since starting my PhD, I’ve read a lot about what it takes to make it through. One of the most common pieces of advice is that you have to be willing to fail. Repeatedly, painfully, and constructively.

No-one says you should court failure; rather, you shouldn’t be surprised when it creeps up on you. Some people would argue that the way I’m doing this PhD is not just courting failure, but outright chasing it down. You see, friends, I have to confess: I am an unfunded PhD student. I am an unfunded part-time PhD student. I am an unfunded part-time PhD student who took a few years out of HE.

And while I’m glad I got those secrets out, I’ve got another big one: for me, none of those things are outright negatives. In fact, they’re positives. I know I’m flying in the face of all received wisdom here, but bear with me for a minute.

1) I’m unfunded. This means huge financial headaches (try saving several hundred pounds a month for the next few months and you’ll understand.) However, it means that if something does go wrong, if I do have to drop out, or suspend: I answer only to myself. My worry about the state of my funding won’t stop me leaving if this PhD thing doesn’t work out.

2) I’m part-time. More importantly, I’m part-time because I need to work to pay my fees. Again, this presents more financial challenges, and can cause time management issues. But, all those ‘transferable skills’ PhD students are supposed to be developing? I’m developing them right now. And those horrible periods when your PhD engulfs your life and you find yourself crying onto your keyboard at 3am on a Thursday morning because you just can’t see the end of it? 

Well, I can’t do that. My PhD can’t dominate my life because two and half days a week, I need to be focused on something else. A few days ‘off’ from my PhD means that I come back refreshed every week, ready for more.

3) I took a few years out. My MA was intense. By the end of it, I was exhausted and entirely doubtful of my ability (and my desire) to do a PhD. So I moved in with my boyfriend, and I got a third sector job that was exciting and frustrating and challenging and pushed me to develop professionally. But those two years away made me realise that this PhD is what I really want to do. I know that certainty isn't permanent, and that it won't get me through every hard moment. But, when it gets tough (and it will), I will know that I am doing this PhD because I want to, not because I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

So, I may be chasing down failure by starting off this way. But, for me, I actually hoping I’m staving it off as best as I can.  And I’d be fascinated to know if anyone else is taking a ‘non-traditional’ PhD route, and how you’ve found it.

Photo credit.