For the last two years I have been pursued by an MA in Humanities (what the #Q%$% was I thinking????), studying education, Jungian psychology and myth. The myth is what got me into this thing, but after next week I will be about of it, having presented my last presentation, written my last paper (already submitted) and shared a not-the-last weekend with my Jag sisters: Cathy, Barb, Karen, Susan and Chrysm. I am so looking forward to being with them this week.
The actual graduation will be in May of ’08 when the spring Jags will finish up, and that will at least give us a chance to eat again at the Siam Elephant in Carpenteria and drink a few libations while dancing at The Palms. So I am savoring a few moments away from my portfolio, which isn’t done yet, but which will come together before I leave home on Friday to fly to the left coast. Or else. I can sleep on the plane so if I have to pull an all nighter to polish it up, so be it.
So for what have I traded two years of my life, not to mention the $30k+ I borrowed, when I already had a MEd? I am in my Saturn return year at 56, and I am looking to redesign my life. I have seen how I have cut off too many parts of my true self by telling myself too many old stories: the mockups my parents had for me, my teachers, and even the ideas I had as a child. Children do manage to survive a lot, but they misunderstand things. I guess I have finally gotten old enough to know better, and I’ve had enough people call me on my stuff to begin to straighten it out.
I feel big changes coming to me, but as yet, I can’t see what they are. I know that I have a lot of input as to how my life will be, but I want to focus on the vibration of it rather than sweating the details. I have always wanted to be a writer, and with free blogs, I can write until my fingers bleed every day, all day long. I have my own publish button too. What a great idea!
The main thing is that I am now freer to write new stories, to spend my writing time making them publishable and then sending them out into the world to support me in my old age. Who cares if the average writer makes $5k a year? I am not average. And from what I see in B&N, average is about right!
So, a toast with cream cheese and blackberry jelly to ending school again, to finding the open doors or jiggling a few windows to see where the path leads next….hmmmm, mixed metaphors sounds like B&E.
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