I love finales, riffling around the cavernous carton of the past months’ learning and then packing it up again, hands on the box, backpack over the shoulder, looking for the exit. At that moment, we are both complete and empty, directionless yet full of paths of possibilities.
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The Promise of a New Year: Thoughts for the…
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I love finales, riffling around the cavernous carton of the past months’ learning and then packing it up again, hands on the box, backpack over the shoulder, looking for the exit. At that moment, we are both complete and empty, directionless yet full of paths of possibilities.