Wisdom is a Tree

I just finished the book "These is my words: the diary of Sarah Agnes Prine 1881-1901" by Nancy E. Turner. It was really good and I loved the main character, Sarah. She has a passion for learning that she describes as a greedy feeling. I relate to that. There's a quote I want to share:

". . . wisdom is not a path, it is a tree. . . I have been sad almost a whole year, thinking that taking that test was somehow the end of my learning and that not having that as a possibility in my future left a big empty spot in my life that the children and the ranch didn't fill. But my life is not like that, it is a tree, and I can stay in one place and spread out in all directions, and I can do more learning shading this brood of mine than if I was all alone. I declare, it is like some other part of me made up some rules about happiness and I just went a long with them without thinking. My heart is lightened so much that I am amazed at how sad I felt for so long."

This is similar to my struggles--I have been on a path to get my PhD, and every little detour has made me feel like I was getting farther from my destination, farther from that possibility. And I have had a big empty place in my life that my children, husband, and domestic life doesn't fill. I'm trying now to stay in one place, a place different from where I want to be, a place farther from the path of academia, and spread out in all directions. I haven't reached the point where I feel like I can do this better with my brood than if I was all alone, but I do know I have made up some rules about happiness that I've believed and gone along with them without really thinking. It's time to question the rules of happiness that I've made up and see if I can lighten my heart.

In a way, the direction my life has taken is requiring me to think outside the academic box. That is really hard for someone who grew up in an academic household and believed that was exactly how everyone else lived. Being on some university campus is as natural as breathing. I've worn these ideas for so long that it feels just like part of my own skin and now I'm trying to shed that skin but have no one to teach me how to do it. Maybe it's more like being a caterpillar and when the time is right I'll know how to spin my chrysalis. I would like to believe there is a butterfly inside of me, one that is independent of any university or institution. Maybe I just need to be patient and hopeful and try putting down some roots in this desert that is now my home.