In a dresser drawer in my bedroom back home in Delaware sits
a set a quilt blocks, about half of them finished. I think I started them when
I was in my early teens. I took them to college with me, appliqued a couple
more. I’ve thought about them many times, so desperately wanting to finally
finish them. My mom offered to finish them once, but I said no because I wanted
the whole thing to be MY work. I still intend to finish it someday. If thinking
about things got stuff done, I’d have the world changed by now.
I’m a product of a generation that desperately wants to make
a mark in this world, tending to think we’re more significant than we are. Our
baby-boomer parents raised us asking us, “What do you want to be when you grow
up? Whatever you want to do, you can do it if you put your mind to it.” We are given inflated faith in our personal abilities. (The Huffington Post had an article I found really interesting that characterized my
generation. If you're interested, you can read it…. here.)
