For the fourth time in my life, I'll be crossing a graduation stage this June, this time to receive my MLS degree. In fact, I had made up my mind not to go. Who wants the fuss of a cap and gown? Who wants to swelter or have your legs fall asleep while listening to speeches galore, mostly by people you don't even know?
And yet, the time has come, and, with some prodding from my sister and parents, eager to put a stamp of fanfare and closure on the last four years of part-time schooling (which probably drove them almost as crazy as it did me, considering how often "But I've got a paper to do!" was an excuse for... whatever I needed it be an excuse for...) I decided, fine, I'll go through the process one more time.
It's not the ceremony that's important to me, (obviously). It's the being done, it's the breath I can finally exhale, it's the smile that's returned to my cheeks, it's the lack of guilt while I'm blogging, playing, or just lying there, the lack of, "oh damn. I've got that paper to do, that Blackboard post to write, that research project to research..." And, to be frank, it's the achievement of the Masters. For years to know that I was capable of this (and more) but not having done it, was a silent little thorn in my side, as much as I like to think I'm above such thinking. Now it's no more. I proved myself to myself. The breath of relief is exhaled and a sense of calm descends.... for a moment.
And then it's on to... What's next?
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