I also made a table, with academic years listed vertically and semesters horizontally. Listed inside each square of the grid were the classes I planned to take that semester. I did not deviate from the plan. In fact, I liked it so much I created similar course plans at the start of my MSN and PhD programs.
When I began my PhD program, I was given a four-year fellowship. Thanks to the fellowship, I was able to go from working full time to working one day per week, so I could focus more completely on school. (My MSN program was at a California State University, much more affordable than a school in the University of California system, and I had continued to work full time. I knew, going into the PhD program, however, that I could not afford to pay my way through school as I had done with my MSN.) Because my PhD fellowship was funded for only four years, I made my course plan accordingly.
As with my BSN and MSN programs, I wrote out my course plan before the first day of class and, for the first two years, I stuck with the plan. But once my courses were complete and it was time to write my dissertation proposal, I experienced something that had never happened before—I deviated from the plan!
This deviation was not a welcome surprise. I was moving off course and did not like it. I thought it would take me only a few months to write the first four chapters of my dissertation. Instead, assuming I defend my proposal in June as planned, it will have taken me three times that long. Moving my proposal defense back introduces the possibility of moving my dissertation defense back, ultimately delaying graduation. Aware of the implications of not sticking to my original plan—postponed graduation date, dried-up funding, disappointment in myself—I had a huge problem on my hands.
Thinking about my inability to stick to my original plan made my writing suffer. My thoughts were clouded by questions, such as “How will I be able to pay for another year of school?” and “Will I look like a complete failure if I don’t stick to my plan?” Because I had told friends and family that I planned to graduate in 2015, I was also weighed down by the prospect of shame, associated with graduating later than planned. I have never made a plan for my life that I was unable to follow through. If I didn’t manage to graduate in four years, I thought I’d be letting myself down.
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Then I had an epiphany. I realized that, for me, earning my PhD is not a goal; it is a dream. I don’t view goals and dreams equally. Goals are generally attached to completion dates, but dreams are not. Dreams don’t have expiration dates; they expire when you do.
This glimmer of hope came after months of beating myself up for not sticking to my original plan. I reminded myself that fewer than 1 percent of people have a PhD, and I began to ask myself questions, such as “What matters more, when I graduate or the fact that I will graduate?” and “Who is going to care that I graduate a year later than planned?” As I contemplated answers to these questions, I had to remind myself that obtaining a PhD is not a goal to check off on my five-year plan (yes, I have a list of those goals, too). Obtaining a terminal degree is bigger than that. Getting a PhD is not a goal to be achieved; it’s a dream to be actualized.
I began to ponder reasons for plans and deadlines. Many times, we are held to a deadline, and, if it isn’t met, some sort of disciplinary action or negative reinforcement occurs. This led me to ask more poignant questions: “If I am unable to complete my PhD in the planned time, will I be punished? Am I going to leave the program? Will I call it quits because I didn’t live up to my expectations?”
The questions were sobering, but as I thought about them, I realized how silly I was being. Am I crazy enough to let go of a dream simply because it may not come to fruition in the time planned? Of course not! I may be a stickler for plans and organization, but I’m no fool. It would be foolish of me to believe that the hard work of earning a PhD loses its significance if I don’t graduate within the time originally planned.
I also had to remind myself that life has a funny way of working things out. Things about which I have no knowledge may happen. Who’s to say there isn’t a another predoc fellowship or postdoc opportunity out there with my name on it, one not available had I stuck to my original plan? Although I may not be where I thought I would be, as it relates to the progress of my dissertation proposal, I believe I am where I am supposed to be. Dates and deadlines cannot hinder my belief that things will work out in my favor. My faith includes faith in timing. I wholeheartedly believe things will happen when they are supposed to happen.
As it stands today, I may still graduate in four years. But if my plans are interrupted and four years turn into five, it won’t be the end of the world. I’m sure I will always be a planner, but I’m learning that it’s OK to go with the flow, sometimes. Some of the things we want out of life are too big to attach to specific dates. Our dreams should not be limited by our desire to see them actualized by a certain time. Having a plan is never a bad idea, but allowing things to progress organically is OK, too.
Today, I am committed to working diligently and letting the chips fall where they may. Instead of creating expiration dates for my dreams, I’m going to chase them until I catch them—whenever that may be.
For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International. Comments are moderated. Those that promote products or services will not be posted.
