On Finishing Things.

This post doesn’t have a lot to do with writing. Or mental illness. Or even big sad alien robots. You have been warned.

So my subscribers may have noticed that I’ve been radio silent for the past few weeks. I’ve been okay, don’t worry.

Oh, you weren’t worried? Well then.

It was for a good reason, at least. I was neglecting any notion of fun to finish my degree. I finished the last two classes that I needed to complete my Bachelor of Arts in Psychology with a minor in English, specializing in Creative Writing.

Is that a good enough reason? Am I forgiven?

No? Okay then.

From what I understand, I am supposed to take this as a rite of passage. My parents and older relatives are treating finishing my degree like one of the final gates to full adulthood. My friends are telling me how great it must be to be done.

I don’t feel great, or more like an adult.

I don’t know why this is—I imagine part of it is due to not receiving my piece of paper that says I learned stuff diploma until October. I think part of it is because I made the mistake of getting a psyche degree, which means that I can’t do what I want to do (art therapy) until I get another degree, so my job prospects with my psych degree haven’t changed since I was a psych student. Except now I can’t get student discounts on subs.

Remember up there, when I said this post didn’t have a lot to do with writing?

Here is where it has something to do with writing.

Finishing my degree feels a lot like finishing a story. According to google, Leonardo DaVinci once said that Art is never finished, only abandoned. That is how I feel about my stories. There’s a brief high when I finish the first draft, because all the ideas are on the paper and there’s one less story crowding my brain. Then there’s a lot of drafting, and then there’s finding someone to take my misshapen word-child and parade it around like a severely disabled show-dog (I’m in one of those “I hate my writing” phases, can’t you tell?). I read the story later and see so many places to improve, but I can’t be bothered to. I am done with it.

This is also how I feel about my degree. I put a lot of work into the papers, I did all the courses, wrote all the tests and now I have a piece of paper to show for my heart and soul. But now I have to find somewhere who will give paper and I a good home, and then use the paper to get another paper. I look back on my university experience and see so many things I should have done or I should not have done but it’s too late, because I am done with it. I just have to do better next time.

What I have come to understand as the truth, after four years of university and many, many years of creating, is that “finishing” something is inconsequential. I’m not going to say that “life is the journey, not the destination”, because that’s too cliché. What I will say is that life operates in cycles. Nothing is finished forever. And that’s beautiful, because it means that no mistake is forever, no regret is forever, and that we have countless opportunities to change and grow.

That’s enough waxing poetic for me.  Back to our regular scheduled programming.

God bless,

Kelsey J.

Kelsey J.

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