For some reason today I wanted to walk in the air after school; traipse the neighborhood with my friend who walks religiously at 5 pm. It was good to walk and air bits of news, enjoying the saturated colors of a fall evening.
Today, I want to see what I might write if I find my neglected blog. It feels like I’m emerging from a blur of too many meetings, from evenings of I-don’t-want-to-do-anything, and from planning projects and presentations. But it may just be a gleam and I’ll retreat back into fog of online articles, port and too many rounds of Words with Friends. I’m not complaining; just noting it hasn’t been my pattern of late to do things like walk and blog. Which things I really should consider essential to my health and temperament.
Today before school in my classroom I glanced at my desk in the corner by the window. I recalled it was in a dream from the night. I dreamed that someone was reading off a list (a rather odd assortment) of items that were on my school desk. This inventory was like a citation, holding me responsible for the disheveled desk.
So perhaps some psychic house cleaner has arrived to put my energies in order. Who knows? Or, maybe I just bored myself to action. Still, my fingers are poised over the keyboard and I expect something to come of this reflection.
Writing. I used to use a blog for a rant. Nobody read it, which was a good thing, since it was basically raving and releasing pent up frustrations. Then I started this blog, “not about anything” but it veered toward being a blog about writing.
Sadly then it degenerated into a blog about not writing. I was doing a good job when it was a daily assignment and it became a joy to write. Like getting used to exercise again and wanting to get out and stretch my legs.
So, I’ve been thinking about things I want — even though it is winter — that I want a bit of, every day. I want to walk awhile daily. I want to meditate. I want to write on my blog daily (writing presentations and grants does not count). And I want to keep reading some poetry (or something I enjoy) every day.
These things enrich me when they are regular parts of my life and they rest and revive me from the more draining demanding work with young readers and teachers.
I seem to have been in a mental siege: my voice held captive for awhile. I wrestled with the “should do’s” — I should go on a diet, blah, blah, blah, I should keep my house cleaner, blah, blah, blah, and I should get in shape.
I find it entirely unlikely at this point, especially since I’m not retired, that I’m going to devote the sum of my energy to me. What I am trying to do is gracefully rest and let myself be at the end of a work day. Let go of the drive, the gear that insists I’m always getting better, etc.
I’m probably going to be around for twenty or more years and I’d like to be able to get along with myself.
I think I’ve been in a cocoon of sorts, a giving up on trying to make myself turn out more acceptable. Giving up on fighting the middle age waistline, giving up on combat with wrinkles, and giving up on thinking my life would be better if I had a man.
Just letting myself be tired when I’m tired. And that’s easy when I teach intervention all day. Letting myself eat without doing points or avoiding rice, or thinking of WW.
Allowing myself to get in bed early because the house is cold, and read, slowly, deliberately. Reading books without rushing.
Feeling winter and the daylight change settle in. I’m wanting to make friends with winter this year. I usually hate the waning daylight and dislike the cold. Winter is a depressive time for me and I miss the out of doors. So this winter, I want to walk, even in the dark….write, without worrying where it leads, and meditate. Watch my mind…calm myself…and be awake.
Well, early winter…autumn coming in without wiping your feet and smearing color around the yard…I’ll try to like you. Maybe, Winter, if I talk with you, you’ll be kinder to me.