4:15…the alarm is about to go off, but I am awake and start the day in silence.
5 minutes becomes 10 becomes the whole pot of coffee. I have read, commented and started three different pieces of writing, all deleted and banished to the semipermanent realm of the digital garbage.
Switch gears. More coffee. Grades are due. I owe it to them to attach a number to the work that defies quantification.
Movement. Blessed movement. Out of my head and into my body. Muscles, balance, sweat…find the edge.
Rushing. Running late. How is that even possible??
Coffee shop… closed. (Yet again I wonder how a coffee shop can be closed on Monday mornings. What evil lurks in that decision?)
I beat the bus. Off site dialogue groups with students. Talking about difficult subjects. Facilitating and not teaching. They will go where they will go and I will follow, observe and wonder how come they don’t see what I see.
Lunch with co-facilitators. Simple until it isn’t. I am speaking. My voice is shaking. My eyes lose focus. I feel the heat fill my face. I am not clear. The words, my words, are failing me. How come they don’t see what I see?
Found time. An hour. It’s worth the extra 15 minutes to drive to get fresh coffee. I start with the news and then find Springsteen. Loud enough to almost drown out my thoughts. Almost.
Back at school. Checking off my “to-do” list. I am not giving the best of me. Every encounter is overshadowed by the things unsaid. Thank god all the interactions are with adults. They don’t see.
Union meeting. I try to find the balance between staying on track and allowing people to be heard. I am in charge but the locus of control seems elusive. I reveal too much and question how much is really too much. It was too much.
Heading home, finally, even after the meeting spilled into the parking lot. Cold mist comes in through my open window but it is not as bad as it is for the one standing in the rain. I breathe deep and continue to listen until they are done.
Home. “How was your day?” Dishes to be done. Dinner to be made. Children are predictable and settled in their own way. Husband is having his own day and I am failing to figure it out completely. There will be time. There is always time…. until there is not. (Remember that.)
Planning and grading and watching a movie with Kevin Hart and the Rock. Or is it The Rock? To be clear: I am watching the movie with two of the three kids and not with Kevin Hart and the (The?) Rock. They are in the movie. I sink in and laugh and forget.
Tired. Exhausted. 4:15 will come soon But….I forgot to write. Can I still push words together? What part of the story is worth telling? What part of the story is worth remembering?