It's two o'clock in the morning and I'm staying at Melissa's house for the night. She's got work in the morning, so she's gone to bed and I should be working on school stuff. But you know what? I'm not. I tried, but I really don't care. There's so much stuff that I'd rather be doing than school.
So many more important things to do. Like hang out with my cat Ophelia, or read the books that have stacked up in the corner of my room that I've been meaning to read but haven't because of school, kiss Jared, watch tv with my sister, practice music with Daddy, talk to Mama about life (because she knows a lot about it, believe me.)make sweet craftiness with Jess Wal, laugh with Melissa and Kim, garden with Nanny, sit outside and listen to whatever floats by my ears, make weird garden sculptures that make the neighbors hate me and just be a freelance writer/singer/musician/gardener/artist. None of those things have anything to do with school and are infinitely more important to me.
I'm nearly done with college, but I feel like the only thing that's actually benefited me has been my internship. Sure, I've read a few cool books that really affected me, I've made a couple of really awesome friends, but in terms of actual education, the hands-on practical application of what I already knew has been the only thing that's been a real learning experience.
My real education isn't happening at KSU. It's happening on the road when I'm offstage and a little girl comes up to me and tells me that she loves me and that she wants to learn to play music because of me. It's happening when I look at Katie and see the wonderful woman she's growing into. It's happening every time I think about how blessed I am to have a man like Jared in my life. It's happening when I see my parents holding hands. It's happening when I am with my friends laughing and making things. I'm infinitely wise in these moments.
I'll do my homework, write the papers, regurgitate facts and information to show that I'm capable of remembering things, and I'll get the diploma. Maybe I'll frame it; maybe it'll end up in a file somewhere, who knows?
It doesn't matter; that's not the education I'm worried about anymore.