I thought about what things would look like to a future me, twenty or so years from now. How would she be different from me? What would she see, looking back into this space of my life now?
And I thought about the possibility of there not being a future me. About what would happen if things didn't get figured out. If my family and friends would have to sort through the piles of things in my apartment and try to make some sense of me through that. What evidence of my life and who I am would I be leaving behind? What would be absent?
Now, I've been home from the hospital for three months. Still, I find my mind wandering to those unfinished pieces.
Some are a small amount of time and effort away from their finishing touches.
Some are technically finished, but on an emotional level, I've been unwilling to acknowledge or share them.
Some still need a lot of work.
And some, I know I will discover, are not meant to be finished but rather, to be let go of.
For the last few weeks of this year, I'm focusing on the finishing of things.
I'll be looking at the ideas and projects in various stages of process and progress around me and asking a lot of questions.
What have I overlooked?
What parts of myself have I been avoiding by not paying attention to this?
How can I most easily bring this project to the state of completion it requires?
I don't know yet what sort of satisfaction this completion will bring me right now.
But I do look forward to, one day, finding out what that future me will really think of it all in twenty years.