“You can’t have it all at once.”

Those are the words of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg when discussing career/life balance. I must say that I have to agree with her assessment. Doing anything actually substantial and doing it well requires truly devoting yourself to it. This is something I know from first-hand experience.

My time in grad school coincided with the time I spent as a caregiver for my family. While I did well (damn the A- that mucked up my spotless transcript), there were times I felt like I wasn’t able to fully take advantage of the opportunities that were presented to me; there were organizations I didn’t join, research opportunities that I passed on, conservations with mentors and colleagues that I didn’t pursue because I didn’t have the energy or because my mind was often preoccupied with concerns back home. I don’t say this as a way of blaming my family for any missed opportunities, because when I was home I often felt that I wasn’t able to be present in the way that I would have preferred either. Moments that could have been special were cut short, conversations that I’ll keep with me for years were condensed, and I often had to settle for providing care that was simply adequate rather than exemplary. Again, no blame (except for what I lay on myself, that’s something I’m still trying to learn to live with), just a realization that I was trying to simultaneously pursue two callings that even under the best of circumstances require a great deal of giving of yourself; that I was able to make do with them both I still regard as something of a miracle.

As I approached the end of grad school, I could tell that I was running on fumes. You can only operate on four hours of sleep, three pots of coffee, two packs of cigarettes, and one real meal a day for so long before it catches up with you. I had done it for three years, and I was torched. Shortly after the final stamp of approval was placed on my capstone, last December, I more or less collapsed. I was spent in every sense of that word--physically, mentally, psychologically, and spiritually exhausted. I was lucky enough to have a partner, a sister, and a best friend. These people had made the success of the previous three years possible in the first place, and for a few months they picked up my slack, even though they too were already burdened by their own loads.

As I started to slowly rebuild my strength, a few things began to become clear. First, I was going to have to take better care of myself. Second, I needed a break from anything as intense as what I had just endured, even if it meant readjusting my expectations for the future. And third, I needed a change of scenery. The first part wasn’t particularly difficult. I cut back on my smoking, and spent some time in the gym. For the second part I lucked out; Emma, who had always been quite career-oriented, informed me that she was perfectly fine with the idea of being the primary income earner. A second piece of good fortune occurred when she got word of her acceptance to a fairly exclusive program, which--if things worked out--would address our immediate financial concerns. Her new position would also address my third conclusion; the job was in Ohio and would require relocating.

Even though it’s something I knew that I needed to do, leaving my family was difficult. We had gotten through the previous few years as a unit, and it really created a feeling that I was breaking up the band. Everyone assured me that things would be fine, and truth be told, in the most technical sense the people that were staying behind were better qualified, professionally, to handle the responsibilities that were at hand, but I still felt a bit like I was abandoning them. At some point though, you make a decision about who you are living your life for, and at the end of the day (and quite a few sleepless nights) I decided that I was living this life for Emma and myself.

In a way, the decision I made coincides pretty well with some of the other observations and advice Justice Ginsberg dispensed. “If you have a caring life partner, you help the other person when that person needs it;” she also added that “I had a life partner who thought my work was as important as his, and I think that made all the difference for me.” Well, Emma had certainly been there for me. She had sacrificed more than I’ll probably ever have a real sense of in the previous few years, and I do think that her work and career is important, and I want her to be able to focus on that. So that’s how I came to live in Ohio—spending my days prepping home cooked gluten-free meals, compiling the grocery list, doing laundry, and when I have time writing things down to share in this space. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a small part of me that would love to be doing some high pressure, fast paced, socially impactful work, but Ginsburg’s wisdom is correct—“You can’t have it all at once”. So at the moment I’m not just happy, I feel blessed to have the opportunity to play a support role for my partner, to work on my health, and to simply exhale after years of feeling like I was holding my breath.