Last post

Well I've been reading all of these bittersweet remarks about graduation and moving on to "real" life in these last blogs, and I have to say, while I understand what you're going through, I'm haven't hit the bittersweetness quite yet. Yep, I still have one semester to complete (and yes, I cheated my way into the class . . . but as Taylor reminded me tonight, one simply cannot pass up any class taught by Dr. Sexson.) By the way, I had the privilege of viewing Abby's class's Lysistrata performance tonight! It was hilarious, and they succeeded in packing the "theatre." I couldn't stop laughing and I was SO impressed with their rendition of the play (not to mention, some of the guys really came out of their shells!) oops (ha), I mean of course that they were much less shy than I have known them to be in other classes. But also, some of them did have some difficulties concealing their "swords" beneath their togas.

Though my death as an English major does not loom in the immediate future (but is forthcoming,) my death in this class takes place all too soon. I feel blessed to have been a part of the class, and I am so grateful to all of my peers for all of their wonderful insights and intellects. One of my favorite parts of every semester is peering back over the books we have read, the pieces we have written, and admiring our work. I know it sounds egotistical, but you have to admit, it's fulfilling to see the road we've taken. Even if we haven't quite reached Rome, we're still forging ahead (if that's where we're headed anyhow.)
But like Kari mentioned in her last blog, it's not about the praise or pride that we may receive or experience when musing over our work, it's just about the work, the actions we made. I must remind myself to be satisfied in the moment of the work rather than feel the need to retrace my steps. Well, as Sam might say, I suppose "I am not worthy."
Regarding today's presentations, I loved Little Gidding's funeral, how they immortalized each and every one of us on a tombstone. I thought it was interesting that our group (Dry Salvages) also immortalized each member of the class. We immortalized our peers in the leaves of the Yew tree. I hope you all enjoyed the story we read to you that was comprised solely of your blogs. We drew everyone's story into one and created a collective "I" as if the class shared a singular consciousness. In the process of pulling the story together, I was blown away at the "chances" of how each piece of the puzzle fit together effortlessly. Our stories naturally flowed into one. So, as you know, that's because all of our stories are made up.
You know, I don't mean to offend anyone in the class, but I have to say that each person in our class is sort of weird in their own special way. I mean this in every way to be a compliment, because I appreciate all of the quirks, all of the unique, individuals. In fact I'm not usually a fan of people who aren't weird, simply for the fact that no one is actually "normal"; therefore, if they appear normal on the exterior, they're scared to face themselves.
Also, as I'm the only one who's "not an adult in the class", I believe it is my sacred duty to remind you all of Taylor's insight that "we need to look for the mythological, the epiphanies, the children we buried in the earth on our quest for adulthood and knowledge. We need to hear the child’s call, remember how to enter the garden and to see ourselves and know ourselves for the first time." In my opinion, this is the best advice in moving forward with life. Regardless of what obstacles may arise, if we can remember to look within for the essences of ourselves that were once pure as children, we will be able to return to those essences, enabling us to perform right action.