An open letter to the recent graduate,
You have spent years carrying wrought iron anchors around your ankles, blistering your fingertips in feeble attempts to undo their rigid sailor knots one by one. But darling, you forget the knives in your pockets. You are so much more than double majors and grade point averages and master’s degrees. You are on a long road west to sunset, but your hands can steer and turn and pause and push and pull your way to glory. Spread your sails like a rose stretches her limbs to the sunlight. There is heaven on your horizon. Whatever it takes—burning your eyes with salt water, cutting your feet on the bow, sailing blindly into a midnight monsoon—whatever it takes, go to it. Meet your dandelion dreams at sunrise, and never look back.