Feed Me!

I post this picture because it reminds me of everything I love about my job: it's unpredictable, I get to eat, kids sometimes make me laugh, and there are opportunities to be challenged on an intellectual, emotional and creative level everyday. But as this year comes to a close, I'm more exhausted than I've ever been. I'm reminded of the words my mom left me in a note when she visited in February. Something to the effect that just because we're good at something doesn't mean we have to do it. I've spent a lot of time this year alternatively joking and seriously thinking that I would become a cheesemaker, breadmaker, touring snow-cone seller, write a musical, move to a foreign country and go back to school, or just fall of the face of the earth for awhile. Interestingly, all of these things involve a solitude and quiet that I don't find very often in my life. So, while I love the joys of my job, I despair in the personal expense I make to feel those joys. There's a sense of emotional compromise in serving others and, even an intellectual compromise, in the idea that most of my brainpower goes into the analysis of and reflection on my pedagogical practices. I am too tired to read the New Yorker every week. The Harper's Index might get read. I've re-read Hamlet and Macbeth 6 times now, but I couldn't finish my most recent novel because it, in addition to the woes of my students, kept me up at night. I'm too hungry for resolution all the time, and when there's the intellectual and emotional chance for it, I jump. I'll stay up thinking until 2 a.m. if it means my lesson or Sarah B's behavior might make more sense to me. And I'm really tired.

A couple of the songs I've thought about for Teaching: The Musical include: "Papers, papers, papers" (the light-hearted introduction to the not drugged out lead); "There's Always (at least) One" (the ballad about the particular "problem" student); and "Gregarious" (the strife-ridden, over-sampled, rock-rap about -- yes, you guessed it -- talking in the classroom). I haven't decided on the love angle for the musical. I think it's in there as teacher-counseling-youth-through-unrequited-love fiasco, but that will probably be in the arch of the up-coming fall TV show, Glee, so I'll have to be more creative. Anyway, these are the things I think about when I'm tired and can't sleep.

But, since summer is here and I've planned little traveling that takes work, I've instead planned my summer around a theme I feel increasingly compelled to explore: solitude and quiet. I've sworn to myself that this doesn't mean I won't call my friends or eliminate all contact via modern technology. I just miss my bones. Who was it that said that? I don't think it was me. I miss my bones. I want some time to feel around for my composure, a grace that I once carried. A confidence, even, in the belief that my life can be balanced with integrity and passion. I need some space to hear my own voice, just mine. I'm turning 30 in August and, though I've never been the kind of person who said things like, "By 30 I will have published my first book," I am certainly the type of person who says things like, "By 30, I will understand how to do the things in life that feed me and those around me." Maybe even that is too lofty, but I feel starved and I know that's why I'm so tired.

So, my round-up of the year is about the 30 things that I've done this year (and when you're talking to a school teacher, you must understand that year means Sept. - June) that "fed" me. The accomplishments, maybe even the successes. 30 is a lot, so bear with me.

1. I started this blog! Yay!
2. I started 3 short-stories.
3. I stopped reading design blogs every night and, instead, bought some art.
4. I talked to Pete about our laptop habit and we got better
5. I ran a 1/2 marathon
6. I ran a 10K
7. I run with Pete
8. I got a CSA and I cooked on most Sunday nights with Pete
9. I learned that I fucking love parsnip puree
10. I laughed and drank wine with my mom
11. I bought new music...that I was not emailed about
12. I kept my hair appointments
13. I got an acupuncturist
14. I was proactive in managing the various "pain" issues in my body
15. I went to a bookstore more than once to buy a book, not for school
16. I kept poetry by my bedside and read it
17. I got out of bed when I couldn't sleep and tried to do something about it
18. I tried to help a friend in trouble
19. I fall in love with my husband all over again when he cries with me during the West Wing or The Wire, or some other TV Show that shouldn't really make us cry.
20. I taught a cooking class with my colleague and seriously loved every minute of it. 21. I got a little better about writing thank you notes.
22. I relished every day of teaching Macbeth to my students and feeling like the teacher I want to be: knowledgeable, introspective, honest, silly, risky, authentic, excited.
23. I wondered about my life and felt lucky about my life.
24. I volunteered in the wilderness.
25. I went to plays and talked to Pete about them.
26. I thought of my Dad and all the ways that he would be proud of the way I live my life.
27. I thought of my Dad and all the ways that he led a life of integrity and action and where he was when he was 30.
28. I tried to be better at calling my brother, who also leads a life I'd hope to emulate.
29. I gave myself a break every once in awhile
30. I admitted that I've got time to do the rest of it.

So, I'm off for a little feasting. Maybe a little gnawing. Down to the bone...