Friday at 5:17AM central standard time, I submitted an essay for my senior capstone class. I had to pull an all nighter to get it done, but it’s done. And I’m sitting here, still working on the rest of my finals, thinking about middle school. All the hours spent late into the night buried deep in a book. The days spent in the library, learning what it means to be human.
And I think of high school. When I was fifteen, I couldn’t even wrap my brain around the concept of being nearly 22 and finishing undergraduate education. Those were the years that I spent hours late into the night depressed and failing classes. I thought I was a failure.
But here I am. In August, I will face my final semester of undergraduate education with an English major and religion minor. The end is in sight and it doesn’t feel real, honestly. But I keep moving for middle school and high school me. My GPA is not what I would have it be—perfectionism is a bitch, after all—but I am doing it. I have survived and I will survive. Graduation is in December. I’ve got miles to go before I sleep. But this moment of my life has such transient beauty I must stop to see it. Saint Julian of Norwich said “All shall be well, all shall be well, all manner of things shall be well.” And I look back at the me of 10 years ago, reading the Twilight for the first time oddly enough, and I tell them that all manner of things shall be well.
(Also a lot of st. Julian iconography and art depicts her with her cat which I just love so much)
