The Coffee Has Gone Cold
Sometimes You Just Need To Step Away
I’ve started and stopped and started this post several times over the last few days, changing my mind on what to write about.
This is how research sometimes goes as well, when the next fact you encounter leads to another, and you keep hoping that the next fact that will make everything fall into place is just a page away and you’ll get all the answers to why your mother did this or your father did that, and why did your maternal grandmother say that on Easter Sunday in 1972?
And sometimes you’re just so burnt out and overwhelmed that you decide to just chuck everything and binge on Japanese healing fiction for the foreseeable future.
That’s where I am right now. I think I’ll go buy a box of Calgon.
Part of this is due to the outcome of the election, but a bigger part is due to the fact that I’ve been digging and digging and digging into my own story for several years now, and even though I am hardwired to find the NEXT FACT that may be my holy grail, I’ve hit the wall.
Right now I am at peak saturation. I simply cannot absorb any more information, not even the address where my parents lived in Elizabeth, New Jersey in 1955. I have to allow what’s already stuffed in there to process for awhile and just let it churn in the background by the great maw of the unconscious.
Sometimes this is all you can do, to take a break, especially if you’ve recently been frustrated by myriad dead ends. And that’s okay. But sometimes it helps to look elsewhere for things that have nothing to do with your main research, everything from bottles and baubles to shoes and and stuff…like a tool collection. In the November 11, 2024 issue of The New Yorker, a short piece “By Hammer and Hand” describes the John M. Mossman Lock Collection at the General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen of the City of New York.
I don’t need to know about locks, or safes, or how to open them, but as I discussed last week, sometimes tangible things can really open your eyes to the truth that research reveals…or not. What kinds of unusual collections do your own local libraries and museums hold? What have you always wanted to know about but have told yourself that you’ve never had the time? Go there. Now.
For me, I’ve decided to veer over to a somewhat-dormant project that doesn’t hit so close to home — at least not yet — researching a woman who lived a few doors down from me in the 19th century, which will require a trip to the New Hampshire State Archives next week to dig through probate records.
Will I find some secrets? Possibly. But even if I don’t, it’ll be a welcome respite from the dogged digging of my own family’s story.
The Takeaway: Sometimes you need to take a break from digging. You can give that part of your brain a breather by reading about cats or dogs or whatever you consider a respite, or turn your attention to researching something that right now feels totally frivolous. It’s a safe bet that it’s not…
Rooting Around is free for subscribers. If you’ve learned one new thing from this post — or I’ve made you smile — I’d appreciate it if you could share it with your friends, on Substack, Facebook, or other places. Thanks!
Everyone has a time when they’ve needed to take a break from intense research. What’s been yours? How did it ultimately help? Leave a comment below!
The medical library at Yale sends me really tricky, difficult questions where my job is to do the literature search, and yes, taking a break, waiting until tomorrow, sleeping on it, talking about it with a friend, talking about it with ChatGPT, taking a ride in the car… When you come back to it, you have a different brain. It pretty much always helps.
So on the mark. This made me think of my days as an Econ major and “the law of diminishing returns.” I hope you have a good break.