Rising tide

It is a quiet Friday afternoon in Woods Hole, and I am alone in my office. My back is sore from standing at the lab bench, and I can still feel the raw spots on my fingers from orchestra rehearsal last night. It's sunny outside. Life is good. 

Science is such a weird career. It's truly boom and bust. Sometimes, I have to frantically prepare for a field trip, scramble to get paperwork together, and crank through sample analysis. Other times, I sit and think about abstract concepts and unanswered questions. It seems there's little in between. 

Recently, my lab has felt like a well-oiled machine. We've had two papers published recently*. The field team I sent to Saipan had a successful mission. My grad student's thesis outline is coming along nicely, and our samples from Palau have yielded nice preliminary data. I even managed to submit a proposal this week. 

Is this what leadership is supposed to feel like? I sure hope so, because it's marvelous. Samples are being collected; questions are being identified and answered; the people I work with are succeeding, and all I have to do is stand by and cheer them on. 

I'm reminded of a fictional character who once said "If I have to work, then I'm not doing my job." While I still work plenty, it's a welcome transition for me to step back every once in a while. To let the rising tide lift all metaphorical boats. I am fortunate to work with an amazing lab. 

*Check out our latest publication on Arctic larvae in the journal Progress in Oceanography!