When The Tables Turn, You Muse
During the genesis periods of my academic career, I met a stream of angelic, sweet, and well meaning people, for whom I will always be grateful.
One of these angels, we met during my first international travel ever, told me this in a paraphrase: You are a very young and bright scholar, please do not sit tight in the local corner of your Institution because there will be tendencies to do so. In an obedient response to this, I sought every opportunity to get out to international conferences, workshops, engagements, and network hunting.
Truth be told, the fruits of my 'globe trotting' abides with me.
Further along the road, another good counsellor said in a paraphrase: You need to choose which kind of academic you hope to be. Between being one that never misses a due promotion via an unflinching commitment to generating research products and being the regretful but administratively relevant academic crowd, who may stagnate for years unending, you will have to choose.
In my prompt response to this admonition and living dread of failure, I sought every opportunity to author a paper, whether alone or in collaborations; even if my depth of insight was not sufficient to make me a luminary.
Truth be told, the fruits of my choice to be a paper author abides with me.
Further along the road, the merciful eggheads said to me through their words and actions: You need academic mentors to lead your way, light your path and take you on jolly rides. In my characteristic prompt and obedient response to injunctions, I sought many and more who could lead my path and yes I found, followed and still follow them.
Truth be told, the fruits of my followership abide with me.
"You develop and learn more in a team", "You learn by lending a helping hand", "You become sought after when you have useful skills", "You need a doctorate", "Many female Ph.Ds are wanted in international institutions, you can be one of them", and many more miscellanous admonitions have I received along the path.
Truth be told, the fruits of my quick listening and prompt actions in response to the gamut of admonitions abide still with me.
Nevertheless, when my many tables turned, I started thinking quickly more than I had been listening. I started standing more quickly than I was sitting. I started walking more quickly than I was crawling. I started soaring more quickly than I was roosting. I started looking upward more quickly than I had been looking downward. I started looking inward more quickly and consistently than I had been looking outward. I started singing more quickly than I had been dancing.
Truth be told, when mercy winds breathed on me, I started musing just as much as I had been obedient.
Now, I am simply relishing my journey. Plus, I have a fresh breeze of silent but faithful advisors (winds and rain) and loud sounding thunders.
Photo credit: Hymnsite web site
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