The Decision

The letter is in the envelope, and it says yes.

The yes is not as wholehearted as I would have liked, but it's the answer I'm giving. A couple of days ago, my dad suggested that I just go to law school for a year and see what I thought of it and decide then whether to pursue it. If I really didn't like it, then I could just leave.

"If I went for a year, I probably wouldn't stop there," I replied. "It's such a waste of money to go for one year."

"Then maybe that's your path," he said. "If it's not bad enough for you to leave, then that's a kind of answer too."

I thought about this and a great deal of other things, and last night I even prayed (to whom? I don't know), along the lines of: "I think you're out there, and I surrender to your will!" Then I stopped. And started again: "Oh, I can't do this. I can't say something like that, because I believe that if there is a God out there, God's given us what we need to get along in this world. I believe that! I believe the answers are in me! Just like Mr. Lincoln said!

"But that's just the problem -- there's one answer too many, and I can't tell which is right. So you know, I really do believe the whole Watchmaker thing, and I don't believe you're stepping in and answering prayers left and right, but if you could make an exception in this case, boy, I'd really appreciate it, 'cause I looked inward, and I just can't figure it out on my own. Thank you. Amen."

This morning I woke up and lay in bed for a while before taking out my "Whaddamigonnadowidmyliiiiife" notebook and scribbling into it that history grad school would fulfill a lot of the things that I like to do -- learn, write, research, become very knowledgeable about something, teach/advise -- and might let me do a lot of things that I'd like to do -- write historical fiction, be a consultant about my field, maybe go into the foreign service.

So this morning I thought, you know, I think the thing I'd really like to do is go to graduate school.

But the thing is, I couldn't answer the question: am I going to regret it if I don't go to law school now? I took a short walk and argued with myself, with the same old tired standpoints. So I decided sometime during the walk that okay, I'll go, but I'll go to grad school afterwards. Yeah, it's a total of 9 years we're talking about, but I like learning, remember? I like school. And if I get tired of it, I can go be a lawyer for a while.

This is what was on the back on my mind when I tried the last-ditch approach that my dad suggested over dinner. He first approached the issue with: "So. This is T minus which day now?"

"This is it! This is the last day," I said. "But I still don't know."

"Okay," he said. "Then for one hour -- or just half an hour -- why don't you try meditating? Thinking of nothing, and maybe you will see your future. They say that if your mind is full of thoughts, it's like water that's clouded by particles. So if you get rid of all the thoughts, you'll be able to see clearly, like through water."

So I tried it. Sat in my room with the lights off and a candle lit and my glasses off and tried to think of nothing. I failed, of course. I thought of scenes from movies I watched recently, what I was going to wear tomorrow to school, how I was getting cold, and so on. I tried thinking of a white room with nothing in it, but the scene from The Matrix when Neo says "We need guns. Lots of guns," and mile-long shelves of firearms comes rushing out of nowhere popped up. I tried concentrating on my breathing, and was distracted by my stomach gurgling. I tried staring at the flame of the candle, but starting thinking about how drafty the damn room must be if the flame is dancing around that much. I tried chanting, "Be nothing. Think nothing," but began visualizing the word "nothing" in various sans serif fonts.

Sometime during 35 minutes of vainly attempting to suppress thought, the image of me at school tomorrow, dashing off to the post office to mail the letter, scrolled through my head. But wait, I thought, I don't have to run to the post office during the break time, because I don't have to rush off to work right after class anymore. I can go after lunch. Or maybe I should just go during break, because it'll be such a relief to get the letter off my hands. To be done. Hm. Wonder how my family will react when I email them that I'm going? God, I don't want to read their emails. Or the emails of my friends, all of which will be unfailing supportive and cheerful, but from which I will feel a faint sense of disappointment that I know I'm actually projecting.

A few minutes later, I got up, turned on the light, and blew out the candle. I stepped over to my dad's door, and said, "Well, I think I got it." He opened the door and said, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. "I saw myself at school tomorrow mailing a letter, and the letter says yes. So that's a good as picture of my future as any. I didn't see if I'm going to regret it, or how I'm going to feel later, but I saw that."

Worry about that when the time comes, he advised.

The letter is short, just one line: "I am writing to confirm that I will be enrolling at law school this September. Thank you."

And thank you, all who have followed this, and made suggestions, and advised, and encouraged, and supported. Believe me, I listened and I read and I thought about what each of you said. I so appreciate it, and you.

Special mention must be made of my guru BC, for her amazing patience on the subject, and of Wendy, who tried so hard during those three weeks.

See ya in Cambridge.