Last night I sent an email to ~200 people reporting on the outcome of “Phase 1″ of my academic endeavors (synopsis: it was surprisingly successful and gratifying) and also offering a preview of Stages 2 (the GRE and application plan) and 3 (post-application homeless vagabond nationwide couch surfing).
Initially, I intended to send the email to just my regular core group of about a dozen friends/family members. As one part of my brain actively wrote the update, however, another part was ruminating about the whole Robin Williams situation.
The tragedy of suicide and the deep, abiding sadness that I think comes not from losing such a fun and funny soul, but from our internal lurking, unacknowledged suspicions that maybe we ought to do more to reach out to those whom we love. And even (and perhaps especially) to those we don’t…
And so my email list grew.
The first layer of accretion was anyone who played an active role in helping me navigate the post-law firm / pre-grad school path. Then anyone who supported my cycling adventures. Then anyone who mentored me during my “past life” at Manatt. Then anyone who was a mentor to me in other parts of my life. Then anyone who made me smile or find hope when I was down.
And that’s when I realized that my email records are woefully inadequate because so many of you readers don’t appear in my contact lists. So I’m writing to you today, from the parking lot of a restaurant in Orange County (so please excuse all typos bc this thing is being tapped out on my iPhone) to
(a) invite you to send your contact info to me if you didn’t receive last night’s email and you want it [send your info to ZEISLER (at) GMAIL (dot) com --- please dear lord don't let the spambots attack me!!] and
(b) let you know that I appreciate your readership and support.
Whether we’ve known each other our whole lives, been friends for 20 years, transient acquaintances at sporadic times, or just mutual inhabitants of this blogosphere — you matter to me. I would not be able to do this without you. And often just knowing that you are “out there,” waiting, listening, and sometimes reading or commenting is enough to compel me to keep going.