Resigned or Contented

Hello from Davenport, IA,

The establishment remains the same, but the location is different – and yet I am doing what I do. Sitting, thinking, pondering and writing are who I am. On my way here, I caught up with dear friends, former colleagues, and drove roads familiar to me. There is always a nostalgic element to it. From the incredible waving fields of newly planted corn and vibrant greens to the rolling hills (and they do exist, particular on the Eastern and Western borders) and smells of the rich earth, I am reminded of my childhood and visiting my Great-aunt’s and Great-uncle’s South Dakota farm. From the familiar towns and mile markers, I recall the travels earlier in my youth, when I drove something much more gas-consuming than my Beetle (I had a ’71 Chevelle with a 454 in it). Driving down the two-lane highways (cue up Pure Prairie League) certainly carries me back home.

As I write this, the imminent changes in my life are more real, bringing both joy and some wistfulness. I finished the grading of my summer class, turned in the grades to the electronic system that makes them official, and the ending of 31 years of full-time in some manner in the academy is closing. When I came to Bloomsburg 15 years ago, I knew it was the last rodeo, the final piece of a puzzle that I never knew I would create. When I arrived in this North Central town, I was both excited and anxious to see what a new place would hold for me. As with any period of time, there are a plethora of things that occur, but the ride has been incredibly smooth over all. There are a number of reasons for that, but most of those were the things outside my control. Students, 18-22 year olds, are the same, generally well-intentioned and trying to figure it all out. I do believe there are some generational differences, and I believe my colleagues would say the same. Colleagues, be it in one’s department, college, the university, or even the system, are essential to the well-being of the academic experience, and, of course, there is the administration. I have for the majority, and across the board, been blessed to work with unparalleled goodness and brilliance. There was one exception, but I learned valuable things from that experience. Of course there are those people who make a profound difference, and I am blessed to have such a person.

I was encouraged to apply for the position at Bloomsburg by a previous colleague who knew me at Stout. He left there about three years into my time in Menomonie, but his ability to see through any situation and get to the core of it is still unlike anyone I have ever met. His ability to address any circumstance with a simple matter-of -fact attitude as well as compartmentalize has served him and those who work with him well. In fact, I am not always sure how astute others realize him to be. He has a sort of “awe shucks” tone at times that belies his incredible wisdom and rhetorical ability. Then there is the reality that he is brilliant and principled. When I arrived at Bloomsburg, he was my known entity, the person I trusted and appreciated. Fifteen years later, he is my chair, my family, and my most trusted friend. To say he has blessed me is no where adequate. To say he changed my life might be the most profound understatement I could ever write or utter. To say, I am indebted to him announces what he gave to me can never be repaid. It has been a profound honor, joy, and privilege to work with him, and to become a family friend to all in the family.

While on this little journey, I had the opportunity to meet again with a former colleague and spouse, a couple that is incredibly dear to me. We had dinner the other evening, and after catching up on a number of things, the conversation changed to asking about their summer plans. At that point, one of them informed me of some incredible health concerns. I was stunned, and for the most part speechless. I merely stared across the table at them. The news was devastating, but again, in the typical manner, a calm, collected, and thoughtful voice noted the blessings in their life, in their relationships, in their accomplishments, and then stated they were content. And it was a truthful statement, there was no resignation about what might have been or what could be. It was a contentment for what is. As I listened to the process, the prognosis, and the plan, I found myself being comforted by the one with the diagnosis. What an irony. And yet, knowing this person as I do, there is a gentle, but strong (beyond measure) resolve to face the world as they know it. From the first time I met them, there was a goodness and wisdom, a kindness and calmness, that goes beyond admirable. One of the things noted was a project they embarked on together (and this was no ordinary project), but they have accomplished it (and in spite of the fact it is ongoing), and the consequence of their labor and love is so evident on a multitude of levels.

What I find myself realizing as I write this in the comfort of my sister-in-law’s dining room is too often we resign ourselves to our circumstance. If we are resigned to something, we give away our power. We abdicate our agency, and we choose to become the victim to our existence. What an incredibly sad way to manage our lives. I have often noted that resilience is a life changing, but it is also sagacious. It confronts the reality of something and chooses to work with it versus become the casualty of it. That does not mean there are no struggles nor questioning, but I believe it faces the reality of life, choosing to fight in the best way one’s knows to do. I am reminded of my father when he was diagnosed with cancer (he passed in less than 45 days from his diagnosis). When his PCP asked him what the oncologist had told him, he said, quite matter-of-factly, “He said I have cancer.” When the doctor asked if he remembered where it was (he was in the advanced stages of dementia), he responded, “It is in my liver and my kidneys.” And then he paused and looked up at the ceiling. He stated quite succinctly, “And it is somewhere else . . . and that is what is going to send me down the road.” His voice never wavered, and his tone did not change. I wonder if that was resignation or contentment? I think perhaps a bit of both. And yet, my father was also a person who rolled with things. Even earlier in his life when we was relegated to working out of town because of his stance on some issues (he was a journeyman electrician), he never complained in a way that we knew. He simply went to work, wherever it was, and managed life the best he could. There were years when we worked 8-10 hours away, covering 12 hours shifts, 7 days a week. There were times when we only saw him maybe 36 hours in a two month period. Eventually, that would change, but during my elementary years, it was difficult. I think there were times there he was more resigned than content, but he understood what he had power to change and what he did not.

As I consider those moments in my own life, what allows us to be content when a circumstance is less than amenable? I think I am learning, even this weekend, to remember my father’s words to me . . . “choose your battles wisely, and fight them well . . . but do not make them all battles.” Disagreements occur, situations happen, and feelings are bruised or affected. Personalities affect so much of what we do or say, but if we are only reactionary, more often than not, the circumstance is exacerbated. I have learned to be content with circumstances rather than resign myself to them. There is always a place, an aspect, where we can find some ability to manage rather than be managed. I often note that I wished I had learned two things earlier in my life. If I have no power over it, do not waste time on it; and second, if I make a mistake, to own it. In both cases what I am realizing that I have learned to be content with those situations versus resigned to them.

This week I have been reminded that life is not predictable, regardless of how much we plan, how much we attempt to manage our circumstance. Contentment is not resignation, it is understanding the reality of something, pondering the actuality of it, and believing I am not the victim of it. So much of my life has been planned and yet unpredictable. So many people and events have influenced and changed the path that was expected. I am sure there will be more along the way, but I am excited to see what happens on the other side of what I have been doing for so long. To my colleagues, my students, and those who have made a difference, I am grateful beyond words. To my dear friends, I love you all deeply, and I am here when you need me to be so. The video today is about that sense of peace that is so essential to being content.

Thank you as always for reading.

Dr. Martin