I capped closing school with a weekend mini-cation, playing in Pleasanton with a teacher friend. Cafes, wait staff, shop keepers, shopping therapy, wine tasting, fine food, and buying a big, thick novel to read rounded out my very pleasant stay in Pleasanton.
Now, Monday is the first official day of less-structured time. I chose to pedal my stationery bike awhile, take tea and breakfast to the patio, and let watering the garden be my morning meditation.
Showered and supremely well rested, I met my writing group of one at Crema. The balminess of the morning, after our heat wave would sound exaggerated if I described it. L1 was already seated at a table in the sunshine, reading. What joy to have time to sit and read a book.
I talked and L1’s listened to my ideas for my workshop demo (3.25 hr next week) and asked me questions that teachers would wonder about. What a gift.
Thinking again about how different some writers’ composing processes are…
Here in blog mode I’m narrating something that has just happened. In composing a workshop demo I have many ideas and pieces, but I’m writing something that is going to happen. It is predictive and tricky to balance the topics with an audience ranging from teachers of kindergarten to college.
Then, the best part. My writing buddy and I get on the same wave length often. L1 said how nice it would be to just sit and write, putting a slice and a chunk on inspiringteacherstowrite.com And that’s what I’d been thinking!
Yes. I feel the luxury of the first day of summer break in the clicking of keyboards, with glances out the window to think. The coffee shop is relatively quiet – some conversation in one corner, and the clinking of cabinets and utensils. The radio is background noise.
We had to move indoors to get the wifi to function. And there’s some reach back as I’m thinking I need to pick up lunch and meet our wp director to put in the budget for the family literacy grant report. It isn’t as if summer is about doing nothing. The lack of time compression — the ease of unstructured moments is part of the balm.
There’s work and then there’s work that I am passionate about. Teaching writing as composing, valuing drawing — wanting to spark and foster creativity and that sense of playfulness and risktaking that underlies creative processes — these are the demo ideas steeping in the back of my brain. I like this turn of the year. This heading into summer work.
And I am luxuriating in the time before me to actually design that workshop, without having to handle too many other things. A meeting here and there…some business, but nothing like the avalanche that was my school year.