This week’s post is from someone way smarter than me. I know, like that’s unusual. But seriously, Mike Bennett is not just wicked smart; he’s also funny at the speed of light. He’s so smart that he knows how fast light speed is. Read this post slowly please, and let all the wisdom sink in. And then go do what you kind of have to do.
At the beginning of August, I loaded all of my possessions into a light blue Honda Fit, and left my home in Santa Barbara, and drove all the way to East Lansing, Michigan. I did this so that I could get a PhD in physics, but before you tell me I’m brave or smart let me tell you that I almost chickened out – on account of the drive over.
I hate driving. Hate it. I would rather do almost anything than drive long distances in a car. I’m usually too impatient and self-absorbed to do anything more than focus on how many miles are left to go and how uncomfortable I am in the driver’s seat. And so at the end of July, as my journey drew nearer, I balked. I knew what I had to do, but I desperately did not want to do it. And I began to look for ways out.
Now, I come from a family where love is shown through acts of service, so I had no shortage of family members offering me assistance while I was making the arrangements for my move. “Do you want me to come down to Santa Barbara and help you pack?” “Do you need money?” “Do you want me to make you some cookies for the drive?” Because I am fairly autonomous (and fairly prideful, but that’s another story), and because my kin know this, these bids are largely ceremonial – someone will offer assistance, and I will politely decline, saying that I’ll alert them if I change my mind.
But then my mom threw me a curve ball: “Can I pay to ship your car and things to Michigan, so that you can fly?”
This time, the gears that turned were gears of rationalization, not dismissal. Could that work? What if it was actually cheaper to pay for shipping the car and my things than it would be to pay for gas, hotels, and food? It would be safer, right? Surely it’s better to not have my car broken into with all of my things in it. This is probably a good choice in the long run.
On it went, until paying to ship my car actually seemed like the best choice. I found myself looking up quotes on the internet, half-convinced that this was truly the way to go.
But this strange feeling started creeping up inside of me — and it felt somewhat like guilt. The second I had considered my mom’s offer, a voice had started whispering delicately and seductively inside of me: you don’t have to do this. And because I didn’t want to do it, I had wrapped layers of rationalization around the issue until it looked like a simple economic choice between two methods of moving. Underneath it all, however, what I was really choosing between was bearing my burden myself and letting somebody else bear it for me.
And now another voice, just as delicate but firm and honest, reminded me: You chose to go to school in Michigan. You need to take responsibility for that choice and drive yourself. No, you don’t have to do this. But you kind of do.
So I did it. I politely thanked my mother for her offer and instead planned out a road trip through several states I had never navigated before nor set foot in. And I drove myself through those states for about eight hours a day. And – as you might have guessed – it wasn’t all that bad. I saw tons of new and beautiful things. I raced a thunderstorm in New Mexico. I withered in real Southern humidity in Tennessee. I threw a rock into the Ohio River in Kentucky. Choosing to drive myself to Michigan not only yielded novel experiences, it enabled me to say I hadn’t backed out of a critical juncture in my life.
What I’m not saying here is that accepting help is incompatible with self-leadership. There is a difference, however, between accepting aid on your life’s journey and letting somebody else make that journey for you. At some point you will, like me, be at a critical juncture, and at that moment help won’t be help; it’ll be a venue of retreat.
I don’t know what that juncture will be for you. Maybe it’s refusing to be passive when it’s time to stand up for your beliefs. Maybe it’s giving a word of encouragement or challenge to somebody whom you know desperately needs it. Maybe it’s taking a big leap of faith in moving across the country to start graduate school. I don’t know. But I do know this: whatever it is, you don’t have to do it.
Mike Bennett is getting his Ph.D in nuclear astrophysics at Michigan State University. In his (elusive) free time, he enjoys playing a good game of Mafia, dabbling in music composition, and figuring out exactly which karaoke song will yield the most positive results at any given karaoke bar. Check out more of his thoughts at http://wildmikebennett.com/blog .