Today is the day that our exhibits go up at the Salt Lake City Public Library, an exciting moment for our group to showcase the products of our work to a larger audience. I’m glad that there is a forum to share some of what we’ve been thinking about and to disseminate these ideas to people beyond this institute and even beyond an academic setting!

There are not a lot of opportunities in life to celebrate achievements, so I’m grateful that the organizers are making this space for us. Indeed, I know that creating this space was no small amount of work, so  honoring the work we’ve done over these four weeks is a generous end to what has already been a generous institute. As I write this, many of my institute colleagues are out and about at celebratory lunches, but I chose to hang back because I knew that this would probably be my last opportunity to reflect a bit on what’s still on my mind as this institute ends and my “normal life” begins again.

Endings are often points of anxiety for me. I tend to be change-averse, so once I get into the rhythm of a certain kind of day, I’m reluctant for it to end (even when I know I have wonderful things to return home to!). Further still, I tend to have second thoughts about how I spent my time when I do programs like this. Did I use all of my time as wisely as I could have? Was I taking full advantage of the experience? And on top of all of that, I know that there remains a challenging task in front of me: communicating what I’ve learned in a coherent way to everyone back home, and eventually, in a longer-form project. I’ve told myself I would write a book in a year (and I’m writing it here publicly to make it official), but I’m terrified I won’t be able to meet those expectations, and the end of this institute really marks the beginning of that larger goal.

I just deleted (well, moved to my own private document, if I’m being honest) a few hundred words that described what I want my book-length project to be about, but I think I’m actually going to save that work to share for another day (and likely revise). Thinking back to what I posted yesterday about patience, persistence, and flexibility, I’m realizing that I need to remain patient in how my ideas unfold. I think that a lot of my anxiety about leaving this institute has to do with my impatience to get my ideas out and get feedback. And while I want to be ready for that feedback – and I know that I will need the feedback – I also recognize that I’m not actually ready for it. I recognize that, as I re-read what I’ve written about my project, there are still incoherent moments and inconsistencies that I have to puzzle out for myself first. That will take time.

After I’m done writing this (and in the remaining minutes I’ll have before our institute reconvenes for some discussion time before our opening exhibit), I’ll probably do some spatial concept mapping to see how all of the disparate ideas I just wrote down will connect. It is thrilling to encounter new ideas and to develop arguments, but I need to move back to organization before I can cement argument again, I’m realizing. Writing is, in other words, constantly iterative, and requires evaluation, re-evaluation, and even more re-evaluation again.

I tried actually sitting down this morning too (in a free moment between clean-up efforts of our classroom) and compose in the proposal form that I plan to submit to a book publisher, and I found myself paralyzed, nitpicking over the grammar and word choice in individual sentences. That’s when it became clear to me that I had more thinking to do; when I’m drawn to fixing superficial niceties, I know it’s because I’m avoiding the hard work of thinking. Unfortunately, I think that experience of trying to write in a set form, of trying to compose a “final” thing shot my anxiety levels up even higher beyond the base-line anxiety level of transition that I’m already experiencing.

I don’t mean to burden you all with boring work details, but I’m deliberating leaving everything in here about my thought process as an attempt to share some perspective on how my writing process works, to demystify its messiness. Again, I’m thinking of this entry in many ways functioning pedagogically in the future, but on a personal level, I also hope that it shows any reader why I work in the ways that I do. Being transparent about what’s on my end remains a goal for me, and I find it much easier to write all of this down than to talk about any of this in-person. Perhaps only a few of you will read this. And that’s OK too.

To circle back to the beginning as I reach the end of this post, I look forward to being present at the celebration tonight. I aim to arrive at the library, admire the incredible work of my colleagues, and bask in the glow of finishing something. And then, the next day, I’ll get to worry about all that is to come. But that’s tomorrow. Today, we celebrate.