Because the little igoogle weather box tells me that sun will prevail today, I've already made plans to ride my bike to work. This is a monumental day for me, because in a better world, I would ride my bike to work every day. In an even-better-than-that world? I would trade in my minivan for a bike. I'm considering moving into those worlds, but such changes are not individual ones, they have pretty monumental effects on the people around me.
(Not that there are any changes that *can* be made in a purely individual way...)
The fact that there are only two more weeks of classes (seven total meeting times!) this semester astonishes me. I feel excited to finish the process to move toward a new beginning, but I also feel distraught that this will be the last time I get to spend with most of these students. It makes me want to do something desperate and extravagant to elevate these last two weeks of discussion and interaction to new heights! But I've learned (from 20ish semesters in a row of these emotions) that probably faithfully continuing the patterns we've already developed together will work better. Radical change rarely ends up being what we hope it will be.
Do things accumulate weight for you the longer they hang around? Because there are about four emails I need to write right now, relatively insignificant ones, that just feel absolutely overwhelming. Also there are taxes to be done. And my Christmas cards. I've given up on actually sending them, in favor of, instead, sending out a nice long old-fashioned (as in from the early nineties old-fashioned) mass email. But I've tried to start writing it five times and each time the balance between listing important events, writing witty commentary, and being frankly honest and reflective about what it is like to be almost forty...overwhelms me and I e-crumple the word doc and shoot it in a glorious arc across my desktop and into the trash. The unbearable weight of commitment.
Lynn's job is coming to an end this year, because the federal grant funding her work has been depleted. There are many potential opportunities opening to her, but nothing feels clear. This transition is a strange one, because out of the family, her discover of her personal passion for adolescent literacy in urban and under-resourced populations feels like the most solid thing to emerge in the last ten years. We can all feel good about supporting the cause. It's a perfect meet-up between her best gifts and a particularly great need. So it feels a little strange that this job is withering...
I feel much better about my job than I have in a while. I feel keenly how good it is to work with capable and generous peers regardless of how ambivalent one feels about the institution or the "leadership" therein. The day-to-day "grind" also feels lucky, and there are constantly opportunities opening up in the surrounding community. All that holds me back, seemingly, is the scarcity of time.
On the other hand, writing hasn't been going so well for awhile. I'm not sure if that's about my inability to commit to projects fully or if my inability to commit fully to projects thwarts them too close to their inception.
I keep hammering away at editing the short films, and still thoroughly enjoy the work, in the rare moments that I get enough time to accomplish anything meaningful with them.
Garry is not doing well, but not particularly worse. Cancer, like everything else, pains everyone around, even though its most brutal work is done inside the body of just one person.
I am thinking often of you, friends and family who are far away. Sometimes, because I imagine how much better life would be if only we were able to see each other more like back in the day....or like that one time...Other times, just because I'm grateful for how your voice and presence has shaped my life and vision.