Reflections while cycling

During a 206 mile ride, there’s time for a lot of thoughts to cross your mind. I thought I’d share a few of them with you here.

About 9 hours into my ride, I was climbing Mt. Hamilton when suddenly I was gripped by fear about my qualifying exam. Of course, it was irrational, as I am very well-prepared and capable of doing a great job. However, a nagging doubt filled my head, “What if I fail?” I’ve put so much work into my preparation, sacrificed so much, and compromised a lot of what I value about being a well-rounded, balanced individual. The prospect of being told that my best efforts are not good enough filled me with disgust and anxiety. The cycling was hard already, but the added psychological burden made it feel truly oppressive. But then a thought occurred to me, “What is the worst that could happen?” I could actually fail and leave the program; what would that mean? Well, then I wouldn’t have to write a dissertation, which will surely involve tremendous amounts of suffering before all is said and done. In that case, perhaps failing wouldn’t be so bad after all. I think I could handle that just fine. With that, my fears began to dissolve.

Then my thoughts led to broader questions: “What are my goals in life?” If my highest goal were to become a professor, then there would be a lot to be afraid of. Qualifying exam members, dissertation advisors, hiring committees, and fellowship organizations all have powers to decide whether I continue on this path or not. I am constantly being judged and evaluated, and the pressure never seems to abate. What kind of goal is this, if it will be accompanied by such misery?

Then it occurred to me that I could formulate my goal in another way, one that allowed for much greater flexibility and spontaneity: “To follow God wherever it leads me.” What I mean by this is not some trite spiritual platitude. I am thinking specifically of the life of the apostle Paul, an incredibly well-educated intellectual who traveled all over the known world, meeting new people, taking up impossible challenges, getting into shipwrecks and other tight spots, all why he was developing deep, lasting friendships with a variety of men and women. I am thinking of the life of Martin Luther King Jr., the life of Alexander von Humboldt, hell, even the fictional life of Indiana Jones. To me, a life without adventure is not worth living. Pursuing a Ph.D. and academic tenure is too myopic and unfulfilling for me. If I happen to get them along the way to a larger goal, then that’s great, but if not, that’s fine, too. Life is far too special to get absorbed in such trivialities.

My perspective changed significantly while I was climbing Mt. Hamilton on Saturday. People wonder why I spend so much time on my bike, attempting ridiculous athletic challenges. One of the reasons is that I frequently find myself a prisoner of my own mind, plagued by worries, doubts, and disillusionment. I cherish my opportunities to pursue something tangible, to strive with a singleness of purpose, to strip everything down to utter simplicity. In that purity of my pursuit, I find a sense of peace, no matter how fleeting.