personal

Today was my last first day of school, as a student anyway. Here's to 22nd grade!

As we are getting ready for the fall semester to begin, one of the administrators in our department asked the returning grad students for "wisdom" to pass on to the new students. My advice was this:

"Real" life doesn't stop because you're in grad school. Travel to somewhere new... climb a mountain... cultivate relationships outside of school... learn how to brew beer... have a baby... whatever it is that makes you happy. These are the things that will keep you going when grad school starts to drive you crazy and will make you a better psychologist in the long run.

Fortunately, our department encourages us to practice self-care on a regular basis, which has given me "permission" to take a break from work every now-and-then and enjoy the beautiful Colorado scenery. I recently hiked Quandary Peak, elevation 14,265 feet (see the photo taken at the summit), my third "14er." Very few experiences take me away from school, both physically and mentally, like standing on top of the world!

It has been challenging, but I accomplished a lot (both professionally and personally) over the past six months:

- In late July, I successfully defended my thesis

- In mid-September, I climbed Pikes Peak

- In November, I got engaged to my best friend

- In late December, I passed my comprehensive exam.

It feels good to have two out of the three major hurdles in my program
finished (after the thesis and comps, there's just the dissertation). I
had a great, relaxing winter vacation, but now it is time to get back
to work....

This week-end I hiked to the top of Pikes Peak with 2 friends from school and one of our professors to raise money for the Brain Injury Association of Colorado. We trained for the hike all summer and the fact that climbing a really big mountain is a great metaphor for graduate school wasn't lost on any of us. Here's what the hike taught me:

- Adequate preparation before you begin is useful (e.g., having the right equipment, knowing at least a little bit about what you are getting yourself into)

- The path can be really steep at first, but eventually it levels off a bit

- There are often many different routes you can take to get to the top

- You never know what is around the next corner and there may be many obstacles blocking your path along the way

- Having others with you on the journey makes the whole adventure more fun

- There will always be others who are climbing more slowly and more quickly than you, so it's helpful to focus on going your own pace

- It's easy to get bogged down by what is right in front of you and lose sight of the reasons for why you are climbing

- Finally, it takes a lot of determination and persistence to reach the summit, and the only way to get there is to take it one step at a time.

I had never heard of the "conscious competence" theory of learning before, but I've run into it twice in the past week (the universe must be telling me something!). Apparently, it's unclear as to who first developed this model and exactly how many stages are involved (see this website for more information). The basic framework is the following...

Stage 1: Unconscious Incompetence - The person is not aware of the existence or relevance of the skill, nor of any skill deficit.

Stage 2: Conscious Incompetence - The person is aware of the existence and relevance of the skill, as well as deficiency in this area. This stage is uncomfortable for most (nobody likes feeling incompetent!).

Stage 3: Conscious Competence - The person can perform the skill, but it takes a lot of effort and concentration.

Stage 4: Unconscious Competence - The person becomes so practiced at the skill, it begins to feel like "second nature."

So far, graduate school has felt like one long period of conscious incompetence. It seems worse at the beginning of the semester when I'm starting new classes, new practicum rotations, and new phases of research projects. Then, just as I begin to feel like I have some idea of what I'm doing, we start a new semester all over again. This spring I've been focusing on taking a lot of deep breaths to calm my inner critic. I'm also pretty good at exercising to deal with stress. I'd love to hear about what other graduate students do to cope with their own conscious incompetence.

I've been in my PhD program for just over 3 semesters now. Last year was a huge transition for me and it took a while to adjust to being a student again and living in a new part of the country. But what made the transition go more smoothly were the other students in my program.

We had our PhD applicant interviews last week. As I was getting to know each of the applicants, I thought about what it was like to be in that position two years ago. It's a bit of a leap of faith to pick up and start a new life in a new city where you know no one, which is what many of us do for graduate school.

I feel really lucky to have found a program where I've been able to form great friendships. Very often, the support I get (and give) to my peers (some of whom are in the photo) is what has helped me through the inevitable rough spots of progressing through a graduate program.

A lot of people who know me now probably wouldn't believe it, but I used to be an expert pessimist. I could ruminate on the worst aspects of any situation with the best of them. I've made several changes in my life in order to shift to a "glass half full" orientation; one of the things that helped me the most was to begin a "gratitude journal."

For the past few years, I've kept a notebook that contains lists of whatever I'm grateful for at that moment, however large ("I'm grateful for being able to visit my family at Christmas") or small ("I'm grateful for my flannel sheets"). I decided recently that I needed a practicum gratitude list. As any graduate student knows, many aspects of the practicum experience can be frustrating and annoying, but there are also many that can be appreciated. So, here's my current gratitude list for working at my practicum site:

- I'm grateful for being able to work almost exclusively with older adults and their families.

- I'm grateful for not having to search and interview for a new practicum placement every year.

- I'm grateful for having the opportunity to be involved in so many different rotations.

- I'm grateful for having a five-minute commute.

- I'm grateful for having my own desk and computer.

- I'm grateful for being able to work with bright, interesting, motivated colleagues who have similar professional interests.

It took me a while to realize it, but I believe one of the reasons for why I enjoy working with older adults is that I've grown up knowing my older relatives. I've been lucky enough to know three great-grandparents, four grandparents, and many great aunts and uncles in my lifetime. In a society that largely views aging with fear, disgust, or indifference, I've had the privilege of watching my older relatives age successfully.

My grandmother was one of those elders who inspired me to pursue my work with older adults. She passed away five years ago after a long struggle with cancer, but I still think of her often. Today would have been her 83rd birthday. A few things that I admire about my Grandma Hansen...

- her lifelong commitment to development and learning: in her youth, women either married and raised a family or chose a career, she chose marriage and returned to school after her children were grown

- her appreciation for the "little" things: a bird in the window, spring flowers in the woods near my parents' home

- her creativity: she was an accomplished rosemaler, sewer, and quilter

- her ability to express her pride in me: she was very supportive of my swimming career and working toward a master's degree in counseling

She provided me with a wonderful example of how to age well and I hope someday to be half as successful as she was.