The process of writing my dissertation has been a cycle of breaking promises to myself. Even making these promises publicly doesn’t change the outcome. I am suffering from acedia.

Acedia is a concept that I first heard of last spring from my dissertation advisor, JF. It is a state of listlessness and sloth. It’s not depression, but this rejection of one’s divine calling. It is falling short of one’s purpose and potential by filling time with both non-activity and useless manic busy work.

To borrow a tumblr word: GPOY.

Acedia is my struggle. I battle it everyday, and I have been losing the battles.

Dissertat-ing is incredibly isolating. I hear that a lot, mainly from people who have a cohort. When I tell them I have no cohort, they all look at me like I just told them that I was a born a blind orphan. There is no one to lean on, to give encouragement to, to learn from.

Last week I promised to write about Shad Ledue. Perhaps that will happen later.

Book reading this week: Furious Improvisation

 

 

 

 

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