So the ancestors aren’t going to let me go.
A ton of inflection points these last 3 months surrounded my first semester in 3 decades. I’ve ugly cried at least a half dozen times and said I was done at least twice that.
But I’m not allowed to be done; not until I do whatever it is I am meant to do.
Earlier in the semester, I spun my wheels over a segment of a project for the better part of a week until my piece came together, literally all of a piece, in my dreams. And that presentation was a slam dunk.
So this morning when I was half awake, my final project for one class laid itself out for me. I’m sketching it out and it is taking shape. And dovetailing nicely with my final paper in the other class.
I will finish, and whatever will be, will be.
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