There Are These Brief Moments in Time, When Grades are Completed, Spring Has Sort-Of Ended, and You Have Space to Think Normally (and It is Overwhelming)

I finished graduate projects at about noon, chiseling away at stellar work from 6 a.m. with a desire that if I finished I'd actually be able to do soil therapy and work in the yard like a normal person on a weekend day. Those of us in teaching, in the academy, are so used to 14-hour days, 7-days a week, that it feels odd, foreign, to actually have time to take care of the Homefront: no emails, no assessments, no planning, and no writing projects. It's a bit unnerving, actually. 

I talked to a couple of colleagues who are looking forward to their summer to recoup and I realized I've never had that...not as a classroom teacher, a PhD student, or a Director of a National Writing Project site. Just as one thing ends, another thing begins, so when there are these small windows of self-care, rejuvenation and, dare I say it, selfishness, it all seems very odd. 

I walked the dog - but I always walk the dog (it's my one hour of therapy). I also pulled all the summer apparatus from the shed: tables, chairs, planters, and other outdoor paraphernalia. And I dug my hands deep in the soil and planted several flowers that have been gifted to me (and that I purchased). It's impossible to do it all at once, but I was delighted to spend 8 hours off the computer, out of my house, and soaking in the fresh air and sunshine. 

I also have leftover Julep from Derby, but that remains in the fridge. I thought about building a fire, burning the falling twigs and branches, but didn't do this - that is a tradition that Chitunga and I enjoyed together....didn't seem right to do all alone. 

Alas, it's Monday again. The week ahead is heavy, but I have a plan of action to put it to best use for the goals I have for now and the upcoming year. So, this morning I'm inhaling and hoping to exhale as much as possible.

Teaching is a lot and there are seldom any red carpets or ticket-tape parades. But, I can say that yesterday I experienced a mild respite from the chaos and almost felt like it was an out-of-body experience. The grind I always heavy. It feels when there is even the slight opportunity for a lapse in the routine. You actually wonder, "What the hell am I supposed to do? Why do I work as much to maintain this crazy"

But then the dirt makes you feel good, and so does a hose.