Once upon a time in my past life, I was in grad school. This was a really happy time for me. There have been other, happier, more life-changing events since then of course, like - oh, say, getting married and creating two fabulous humans and watching them grow. Little things like that. Even so, if a magic genie gave me the chance to return to just one time of my life - I just might pick my grad school years.
I wasn't an extraordinary student. I wasn't super adventurous or risky. I wasn't especially deep and philosophical. I was simply a normal human, perched on the top of the mountain of her life, gazing out over the vista of possibilities out there. I was young and starting fresh and felt pregnant with the possibilities of...life. Those days were like a constant New Year's Eve. I was a blank slate, waiting to be written upon. One good friend of mine described me as a flower, ready to bloom. (This particular friend was very interested in dating me, I should add. It is entirely possible that this description was designed to woo me.) Nevertheless, I liked the description.
Possibilities. That is one of the most beautiful ideas ever.
Why, I wonder, do we leave the purview of Possibilities to the young?
Indeed. This is a question worth thinking about.