Bittersweet

Despite being liberally peppered with Zoom meetings, the last year has gone by in a blur. Writing by its very nature is a quiet and solitary occupation and even more so when taking on classes. Between homework and clients I realized that this is what it feels like to drop off the face of the earth.

Any option we choose means we are not choosing something else. Signing up for a certification program means guarding whatever free time we have. It meant limiting public coffee meetings, rainchecks instead of dinners with dear friends, and less time with loved ones.

When I took the prerequisite class for the certification program last spring, the world was a very different place. I expected that over the following months, there would be a number of reality shifts.

Some I was prepared for: new responsibilities, new mindsets, new habits, new opportunities. The unexpected ones knocked the breath out of me.

Unexpected things can easily derail all we hoped for and all we planned. When difficulties feel overwhelming, we’re no longer cruising along at the speed of life. Our car has slowed below the speed limit and we must pull off the road. It’s time to get the map. Where were we going? Why were we going there?

With the end in view, I breathe in, and strengthen my resolve.

It would be nice if things stayed the same. But the essence of going from one place to another inevitably means a change of scenery. We don’t always get to choose those changes. Instead, we adjust. We flex. We move forward.

What does this mean for you?

No matter what those alterations are, they don’t invalidate the journey. They’re part of it, the new course, the shedding of the old for the new. Completing your milestone may not look like you thought it would. That’s okay.

The vision I had for mine was simple: I envisioned one person patting me on the back. That was the perspective of the old me. Upon graduating, my mentor said, “You need to make the announcement.” I am not a horn tooter, but I took her advice. I’m glad I did.

On this side of the completed goal, I’ve been surprised by amazing people. The single cheerleader I missed has been replaced by dozens and dozens of gentle and caring individuals. Each one took time from their day to share a supportive thought, an encouraging word or kind prayer, and a myriad of generous offerings.

There’s something truly special about reaching your destination and finding a welcoming committee waiting for you. If you’re wavering on your path, keep going!

Remember, it’s a milestone, not the end of the journey. There is still so much more ahead.

I am deeply touched and infinitely grateful for you. Thanks for being a part of it.

For Jack.