Friday, March 11, 2011

A Writer's Morning

I think it's Wednesday, March 9, 2011.  I think that's the date.  Just got up.  Thought I'd spend a few moments writing myself awake with the help of my coffee, a smoke or two, and my adoring dog, Diesel.  It'll be a Robert Frost in the library day--nice.  I like Frost.  He married a woman named White and wrote a lot about snow. 
Coincidence?
I have always thought so, but now I'm less sure.  It does seem likely that all of our  choices are somehow linked to the destiny we're wanting to create for ourselves.  Definitely linked to lessons we need to learn. 
So many lessons.
And what did I choose?  To become a teacher...every day devoted to lessons.  Interesting.
A teacher's life is devoted to planning lessons for others, but of course, that means learning a multitute of facts, and more importantly, a multitude of human character traits, motivations, and needs along the way.  For ourselves and for our students.  We are connected through learning to thousands of other minds over time.
Scheduling, structuring new experiences into each day's plan--offering support and endeavoring to provide the spark that will light within each and every student naturally...
Weeks of rest sprinkled in between the school years...and always... new beginnings.  The rest means personal growth, more time to read, and write, and garden, and especially, more time, special time, spent with loved ones--enjoying their company, playing with them, preparing their meals, creating a welcoming respite for them.  Like my Jazzy summers.  Incredibly valuable.
Our garden.  Our spa games.  Fixing dinner for Grandpa Mike.

Now the morning sun is bright behind the white gauze curtains above my desk.  I've been sitting here a while.  Across the room the sun has placed a picture on the small dormer wall--a rectangle of light, clearly defined shadows of philodendrum leaves placed in perfect arrangement, left of the bright frame.  This is an invitation to start my day, get out there, in the beauty of the sun and the lessons, and the kids.  Learn something.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Your comments make the blog; thank you for taking the time to help make this space interactive!