So why do I live for Saturdays and summertimes? I think it is, in part, a function of my age. Truly, immortality seems to be a driving force in my life right now. I just keep thinking, "Am I using my time well?" When I was a couple of decades younger, working in the schools was right on for me. I had passion, energy, vitality. Those things are still there but their direction has changed. Now my passion has gone inward. I no longer want to push for those cultural supports. I continue to value education, child health and safety, literacy, and such but I don't want to push so hard. Now I want to listen.
Listen to what? I don't know. Listen to whatever is speaking to me. The thing is, it's hard to hear when you are also listening for the bell to ring or listening to the upset child or the angry parent. It's hard to hear when the chronic pain that seems to be a part of my aging body is yelling at me. It's hard to hear when I'm tired. That's why I live for Saturdays and summertimes. Today, a Saturday, I was able to take a magical dawn walk along the Laguna trail here in town. When I returned home, I ambled through the morning, doing chores, dealing with a little grocery store action, getting dinner in the crock pot. But it was a stroll through a quiet morning. After a silent lunch, I painted a little and then read until I enjoyed the respite that a nap gives. More reading later in the day, a simple dinner, some writing, and then there will be a bit more reading before sleep tonight. All with eyes and ears open. 