Conversations about learning, becoming, and building a coherent life.
Hello,
I suppose there comes a time in the life of a project when the end arrives, or maybe, the end of its current incarnation.
I’ve been struggling with this idea for a while now. A part of me resists accepting that I’ve reached the end of a creative project, THIS writing project in particular. It’s not a problem with letting go — I do that all the time. But the thought of letting this one go sticks in my throat.
I think it’s because this project means something more for me, represents an ideal, a kind of response to a calling. And if I were to say that it’s run its course, what would it mean about my ability to respond to that calling? Does it mean I failed? Or that the calling no longer exists?
A few weeks ago, I wrote about not knowing what’s next and lingering in the in-between hallways. That’s exactly where I’ve been lately: stuck in the hallway staring at doorknobs and various doors. Which way do I go next?
Th…