that we are unable to offer you admission at this time. The rejection letter came today from the University of Michigan. I applied to the top ranked school of social work in the country and got the big bzzzzzt, try again. It’s interesting to have some level of witnessing capability when a rather big moment like that hits. To literally be able to watch the self react is amazing. Because there really isn’t much controlling it. At this point in my illustrious life career, thankfully, I rank pretty high in the acceptance of whatever it is that manifests, since that’s ultimately out of my control, too. I’ve been knocked around quite a bit by the school of life. This qualifies as hardly a tap. Life is good. Better than it’s ever been, actually.

In less than 2 hours I had emotional reactions that went from stunned to disbelief to disappointment, with lots of “huh!” mixed throughout. There were a couple of moments of egoic embarrassment because there were times when I was rather confident that I would get in, and I expressed it to some friends and family members. Given my 3.97 GPA, decent GRE scores, volunteer experience and trans status, which is hot, hot, hot in social work and the social sciences, I figured I had a pretty good shot. I’m going to call to try to get more specific information about how my application could have been better, but I’m quite sure that lack of writing experience and research in the social sciences were significant factors. They get over 200 applications most years and accept between 10 and 15. So, yeah, not my turn apparently.

It’s now been more than 3 hours since I opened the letter. There’s mixed reaction to the news because my immediate family will be happy to have us on the West coast for at least another year and a half. I’ve already talked to Melissa (wife), and she was shocked, but happy I was “taking it so well.”  Jenna, my 19 year old step-daughter, greeted me at home with the news of the letter; she’s probably going to do a happy dance in her room tonight because she doesn’t have to worry about being totally on her own in 5 months.  Our two good friends, a couple of fun dykes, already called to express their condolences right after Melissa called them. And they said it was bittersweet because they don’t have to send us off. And we get to enjoy the new patio and deck we were planning to put in to either sell the house or, now, enjoy. And I don’t have to live within 15 miles of Melissa’s homobigot racist father, nor the majority of the state that seems to be the same way given the passage of Proposal 2 the last 2 election cycles, first banning legal recognition of any relationships other than opposite sex marriage (which has led to U-M having to end domestic partnership health benefits) and then against affirmative action at state institutions. I feel sad for LGBT citizens of that state, and I'm glad I'm not going to be one of them. And I don’t have to move to a state where it snows. The list goes on and on. See, isn’t the rationalizing ego good at its job and quite fun!?

Really, though, now I get to stop and open my hands again. I spent the last year volunteering, taking classes and reading in preparation for this application, so I had a clear vision and concrete steps lit up in front of me. Now is time to stop and reflect. After the less-than-2-hours I mentioned earlier, I just got quiet and connected with Spirit, and then I started laughing. I started a dialog with Spirit-in-2^ndperson (that sounds much drier than it is; it’s really a beautiful vibrating love-filled experience), and I just kept smiling and saying, “Okay, what’s next? How can I serve?”

Then ideas started filling my head. Maybe clinical psychology. I had a vision of completing that training and then writing grant proposals to create a non-profit for LGBT group therapy sessions to not only directly help people deal with the burden of living in this culture and transform to higher levels of consciousness, but do it for research purposes as well. Life outside the academy would certainly entail more freedom. It’s all open from here.

Now I’m going to mark some of my previous more controversial posts back to publish from draft…look for them under the category ‘Freedom’ in case you missed them before.

And I’m going to have my second glass of wine and head over to Jay’s…