Disclaimer: The following blogpost is saturated with sarcasm (especially the last sentence in the post).
Hi Knitting Friends, this post is not about knitting, but I felt like I wanted to share ‘other’ stuff. I often feel comfort after reading my blog feed. So, I want to share a story that I am walking through now. I apologize in advance to the length of this post and if I get off on a tangent *please overlook my southern wanderings*.
Six is a symbolic number in my life. I was born during the sixth month (June). Six is the number of years it took me to earn my bachelor’s degree. And six is also the number of years I have been working toward a career goal. I realized today that my career goal that I have been working towards is not going to happen in the conventional way that I thought. I don’t even know why I wasted so much time being angry about it. This week I realized that I will not be earning my Master’s degree. Six long.hard.years. What have I learned during this journey?
Accept Failure, but don’t hold on to it. Your passion should never be painful. After accepting failure, take responsibility for your part. And end with Gratitude.
Even though I feel lousy about this ordeal, I am going to have to have several difficult conversations with people. During these difficult conversations, I will have to admit that in some aspects of my life I have presented an ‘impostered-self’. The ‘impostered-self’ or a fake replica of a perfect person. *face-palm*
As someone who only cries once a year (at the sad State Farm commercial), I filled my quota this week. I’m writing the end of this chapter. I’m going back to the drafting board to draw a new picture (and knit that damn first sweater). I’m making changes, purging six years worth of data. During my recent crying session I heard a voice of reason say “accept failure”. Even though my heart is grieved over this failure, I realize that my soul isn’t crushed. My past behaviors of ‘feeling crushed’ often occurred after a failure. I take this as a life lesson. And I am officially an adult.