The Good Patrons of 750 Words

2 cups

I have recently been blessed/cursed with the wonderful fulfillment of possibility of two of my most cherished dreams, getting into an MFA program for fiction and a PhD program for literature. And of the programs I applied to, I got into the one that’s most perfect for me in each set. I am so unspeakably elated, but I am also extremely divided. My parents are engineers, and so of course their solution to this problem is for me to make a numerically ranked pro-con list, add up the two sides, and then bam! Math = the answer. However, getting to work through my emotions on each side, over, around, and in between, sorting through intuitions and my heart and what’s at the center of my dreams is something infinitely more precious and important, and that’s what I’ve been able to do with my 750 words. They can be at one moment a celebration and at the next mourning, and then moments of pure logic, or a revelation into something I’ve missed. I’m so grateful for this multiplicity of experience, for a mode of expression which is infinitely more personal, more me – it is a true treasure.