Three Breaths

Last night I presented and submitted my final project for my Master’s in Architecture. The woman who presented before me ran over her time and the professor very kindly did not cut her off when she kept elaborating on responses to critique. For those who don’t know, when presenting in a studio setting there are outside jurors who give feedback and ask questions about your project. As I sat in front of my computer (It was an online class) anxiously awaiting my classmate finish, all I could think was, I’ve waited 11 years for this moment and now I’m waiting another 15 minutes, haven’t I suffered enough delays? You read that right, I started pursuing my Master’s 11 years ago. It has been 11 years and three stints but I finally did it. After I finished, I turned my mic off, turned my camera off, and took the deepest breath of relief. I finally finished. It was the kind of breath I had taken very few times in my life, the kind that refreshes your soul and unburdens you, leaving you feeling lighter.

First Breath:

Well for those that don’t know, I went back to school at community college to A. build up a portfolio and B. Make sure I actually wanted to do this. I had graduated with a degree in psychology and found that I didn’t enjoy it and could not do it for the next four decades. As my first year of architecture ended, my job teaching martial arts got…complicated. Without getting into details, I had an opportunity to assume the role of owner for the school I was teaching at. My boss at the time was aloof and after going directly to her about buying the school our negotiations broke down and by August, we had basically no communication. As the next semester was approaching I decided I wouldn’t go back, that was until my professor called me up and told me to come back. After a month of attending classes during the day and operating as the owner of a martial arts school at night, I was exhausted. It was the first Sunday in October and I just got home from attending a Jets game with my dad when he called me and asked me a question that nobody had asked me in the prior months, Are you OK? This broke me. I had done a good job of being stoic over the preceding few months but that day he noted I had seemed out of it. When he finally asked me what was wrong the dam of emotions flooded out and I expressed my sheer exhaustion and uncertainty of what I should do. He told me that there was no wrong decision and that the people who really cared about me would understand and support whatever direction I chose. I took that first breath, and as I exhaled I knew that the opportunity to take over the school would never present itself again but going back to get my M. Arch would always be on the table. So, I stopped attending classes and resumed my path toward ownership, always with the intention that I’d somehow figure out a way back to get my degree.

Second Breath: Running the school was great the first couple of years but after sometime my heart was no longer in it. I didn’t surround myself with the correct tools for success and if I’m being honest, I stopped taking care of myself. I let my personal life be consumed with toxicity and it began to show. Reflecting on it now, I was depressed but I didn’t have the ability to snap out of it. I made the decision to close the school and I worked out a deal with the landlord that we’d break the lease as long as I stayed open another six months, giving him ample time to find another tenant. Six months came and went but the landlord didn’t have a new tenant in place. He asked if I’d like to stay open until he found someone to take my space and I obliged with the agreement that I’d have a 90 day runway to close up and clear out. This was in May of that year, my plan had been to go back to school for the fall semester but if he didn’t find a tenant in the next month, I probably would not be able to balance everything since I also had taken on a full time job during the day so that I had one lined up when I closed the school. May went. No tenant. June went. No tenant. About the second week of July he came to me and said, hey I know that this is short notice but I have someone interested in the space but they want to take over in mid-August, is that OK? It was a quick turn around and a bit rushed but I agreed since it afforded me the opportunity to close that chapter of my life and resume my studies in Architecture. The new tenant was set to take over on August 15th, I decided that I’d give myself about two weeks to clean up after classes ended meaning that my final class ever in that building would be taught on August 1st, seven years ago today. I don’t remember exactly what I said in my final ‘mat chat’ but I do remember that it was something along the lines of, while the building will no long hold classes, nothing that happened there will be erased. As I told my final class that they are still black belts even outside the walls of the building, I took off my gi (I had clothes on underneath don’t worry) and emphasized that while I will no longer have the uniform on, I’ll always be their teacher. I took my second breath. It was a relief of sorts. I’d like to say I gave it my best shot but I honestly can’t say that I did. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me, of course it does. I failed myself but most of all I failed my students. That second breath let me begin to heal myself. I’ll always have that scar, saying, as John Greenleaf Whittier put it, Of the saddest words of tongue or pen, the saddest are; what might have been. There are times when I feel there is a higher power acting and I don’t think it’s coincidental that my last class to earn my Master’s is the day before the anniversary of the last class I taught in that building. It serves as a reminder that I didn’t try my hardest because it now serves as a reminder that when I want something badly enough, I will find a way. The past 11 years have been filled with some of the lowest points of my life, but it’s also been filled with the most rewarding, the most redemptive, and the most hopeful. I cannot begin to thank everyone who has helped me on this 11 year journey but I do want to say thank you to one person who has transitioned roles in my life as my life has transitioned over 11 years. She was the first outside juror I ever had at a studio critique, She was my professor when I left school, she was my professor when I came back, She was the colleague who helped me polish my portfolio to apply to a graduate program, she was the first coworker I told I got accepted, and she has been with me for the past five years as I went to school, as colleague, girlfriend, mother of my son, fiancé, and partner in life. ? I hope I grow as much over the next 11 years as I have over the past 11 years.