In February 1988 my career as an architect ended with a whimper
It went out like a light.
I was 41 years old.
I was sure I had nothing to offer, I had no value, and I had no future.
It felt like I was on a stormy sea, on a ship, and had no control where the ship was going. I was not the captain, I didn’t hold the levers and dials in my hand.
Until that point I went wherever the ship went, and did what I could: do a good job, or not, wear clothes, read books, and be a passenger.
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